The Tongue Update: no longer swollen, no longer sore, and looks very much like a normal tongue... only with a metal bar through it. I'm Officially diggin' the tongue.

I have an interview this afternoon. Don't go getting all excited - it's just for yet another clerical job. It would be nice to get, though. What a luxury it would be to have a steady paycheck again (albeit small), and to have health insurance. Ah. A girl can dream.

Thanks to shereen for sending me the real title to that children's book I was trying to remember in yesterday's entry. FYI: Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day. She even gave me the author's name (which I'm conveniently forgetting right now). What a gal. I'll probably go buy it at Borders in the relatively near future. I think it would be a good book to have around.

On Monday night, after having watched the Pet Psychic (Sonya speaks to the animals, darling!), my friend, Paul (his real name), dropped by. I haven't seen Paul in almost a year, even though we only live 30 minutes apart. Paul had just finished a script, so we traded. And yesterday, around 6:30, I get a call from Paul.

Paul: Red.

Me: Paul.

Paul: Hi.

Me: Hi.

(insert car and general driving noises here)

Me: Where are you?

Paul: I'm on my way to work, but I just had to call you.

Me: Okay. Because...?

Paul: Because I couldn't wait to tell you how much I liked your script.

Me: Wow. Really?

Paul: Really. I dug it. I think it's Dy-No-Mite!

(okay, so I added the Dy-No-Mite part)

Me: Thanks, Paul.

Paul: You're welcome.

(small pause punctuated by me shifting uncomfortably in my chair)

Me: Uh, I haven't read yours yet.

Paul: That's okay. I just gave it to you yesterday.

Me: I had to do that other thing, you know, but I can't wait to read it. Really.

(and I meant that)

Paul: No problem, Red.

Me: Have fun at work.

Paul: (feigned enthusiasm) You know it.

Me: And remember, Paul -- you rock the casbah.

And he does.