Dudes, last night I ditched my art class. I had to, on the list of all the things I need to do before I leave for work on Friday morning, something had to give and last night's class, and tonight's class for that matter are lowest on that particular list.

Tonight will be a whirlwind of laundry, packing, cleaning, and making sure I have amazing hair that will survive a night's sleep and a day at the mill (under a hardhat, yikes!) because tomorrow I leave straight from work to the airport. I'm a little giddy just thinking about it.

Between excitement about seeing my friends and family, obsessively following the news from Haiti and even more obsessively following Prop8 trial coverage (thank you twitter) it's a wonder I can concentrate on work at all. But, that's what they pay me for, so I'll arm myself this morning with as much determination and concentration as possible; and maybe a big cup of coffee.

Apropos of nothing, Josh and I were finishing up Season 2 of Mad Men last night, and were reminded of a funny thing that happened in October when we went to visit my Grandma. Our first morning there, after we woke up we headed downstairs to join the rest of my family in the kitchen. My mom was sitting at the kitchen table doing a crossword puzzle and my grandma was bustling about cleaning and tidying and doing her thing. I grabbed a cup of coffee, and poured Josh a glass of OJ. My grandma asked if we wanted breakfast. I declined, settling for a cup of joe and an anisette biscotti thing that always reminds me of visiting my grandma. Josh, not a big breakfast eater also declined. My grandma, being a grandma, kept pestering him to eat something.

"Do you want some cereal? Some toast? How about a Danish? Maybe a grapefruit?"
"No, no, no thank you, this OJ is just fine, thank you thank you, no."
"Come on, you have to eat something, you're so skinny. How about some lasagna? A pork chop? Maybe just a scrambled egg, you have to eat something."
"Well alright, a scrambled egg then, thank you."
"Thank you for what? Make it yourself!"

So she bullies him into agreeing to some scrambled eggs, and then insists he cook for himself. This look of absolute panic flashes on his face, and he starts stammering about how he's really not hungry, and really he's fine at which point my grandma turns to me and tells me to "make yourself useful would ya, make your husband some breakfast."

Now, explain to me how that happened. All we wanted to do was enjoy our coffee and OJ. Sheesh.