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Mr. Foxx is watching his leaked Wolverine copy in the next room and keeps calling me in to show me loltastic raw special effects. DDD: I WANT TO SEE IT FINISHED, KTHX. Ugh, boys.

I'm heading off for St. Louis tomorrow to hang with a college buddy and her boyfriend. This also involves a baby shower, which...*sigh* baby shower. Hopefully I will not get the usual rounds of why I do not have one of my own yet. I can barely balance a checkbook, okay? I've had my car for five months and I still don't know how to work the back windshield wiper. I really, really don't need to be in charge of a child.

I am actually writing DRAMA and SUSPENSE in my big bang, and this apparently lead to me dreaming all last night about being chased by Nazis. Does this mean my brain approves of my storytelling skills, or that I've seen Indiana Jones one too many times?

Afraid to leave Twitter for more than a day. Someone please text me if a) Jon gets a Twitter or b) someone proposes or c) Spencer continues to talk about his ass. Or d) all of the above.