When the cat's away the mice will play.

James and I greet you this Friday afternoon. James Taylor, that is.

Andrew's away at his brother's bachelor party in Memphis, so I thought I'd turn up the volume on my greatest hits CD that I've "worn out" apparently.

Whatever.

Tonight I'm having a girl's night. With myself. And I suppose James is invited, too.

I'm cleaning and tagging jewelry, drinkin some vino, and watching trash on TV.

You should have seen the tizzy that A. Lee got into as I watched The Real Housewives of New York City last night. I know, the trashiness doesn't even deserve to be italicized. But while Andrew's gone, I think I'll get all my guilty pleasure, trash TV-watchin' out. 

I'm way too excited about this weekend. 

That's pitiful.