The other night I got a phone call just as I was brushing my teeth and getting ready to go to bed. It happened to be Jessica and her boyfriend who invited themselves in, in spite of the fact that I greeted them at the door with a toothbrush in hand and a mouth full of toothpaste.
When it became clear that they were going to be there for a while, I swallowed said toothpaste to be able to form complete recognizeable sentences. It gives me shivers to think about it, but at the time I had unbelievably fresh breath.
They agreed that I have the coolest apartment ever. He liked my spice rack and my collection of knives. I only cook with the best, though there's really only one or two that I use. I saw a guy on the Food Network once who worked wonders with a cleaver and that's what I've been aspiring to ever since. They're far more versatile than you'd think.
They also liked my Bedard prints, which I found under my bed one day. It is amazing how one can say so much with so few ducks.
All in all, they kept me up about an hour and a half past my bedtime and strangely enough, it didn't affect me at all that much the next day. I think it's just starting to catch up to me now.
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