04.02.05 - 4:47 p.m.

The Mister Softee truck parked itself outside the 66th St. station again this week. I saw my first groundhog of the year, contemplating his chubby life while eating grass along River Road. Everything is coming out of hibernation and so should I.

Not that I've been avoiding, sitting around without a plan or a purpose. I've been at work, walking around the city, getting my sinuses under control, watching Napoleon Dynamite, etc. But it is a testament to how predictable things have become that nothing happened to warrant an entry in three weeks (!) save my Per Se experience (now posted to Turophile) and the aforementioned groundhog/Mister Softee epiphany.

But now, momentous changes. I am now down to my last penny after owing money on my tax returns for the first time in my life. I do believe that this is the year I finally become an adult. I feel very adult lately, buying good groceries, wearing good clothes, scheduling my yearly review (and please, please, let the raise be a hefty one) and of course planning the Fucking Wedding of Doom. Florist, why do you not call me back? All I want are some centerpieces!

And I'm going to my five-year college reunion. Actually registered, put it on my Bucknell credit card like a good little alumna, got the early-bird discount, even. Next year is my ten-year high school reunion, but there's no need for me to waste brain cells mulling over the possibility of attending THAT one. The last time I spoke to most of those people was nine years ago. I have no desire to update myself on their activities and whereabouts, or for them to know anything further about me.

However, I'd say that I've achieved most of the things that one would want to brag about before a reunion just in time. Let's quickly recap:
Good job? Check.
In New York City? Check.
Nice apartment? Check.
Hot boyfriend? Check.
Who I am marrying? Check.
And he is also successful? Check.
Still looking hot myself? Check.

Plus, I can make a mean lemon pound cake. That should count for something.