Jalape�o, pronounced �chalapenyo�, please.

It is early on a Saturday morning, Buddy Boy is in the shower, my hair is damp in anticipation of being freshly coloured and will no doubt have to be remoistened because I am such a good mother that I let him have his shower before I started in on the dying process. So, what does an internet addict like myself do when she hasn�t access to her bathroom and hair dye? Yes, that�s right, folks, she updates her online journal.

But there�s really very little to update, since we never did get to the movie last night. I took Buddy Boy to his rehearsal, but there was none, and instead ended up taking his friend (with his friend) home, and stopping at the supermarket on the way back to buy the vegetables which I could not serve at supper since they hadn�t been bought yet. I forgot to get blueberries. Mea culpa.

Upon leaving the university (that�s where the alleged/purported/supposed rehearsal was supposed to be) I saw a tall blond man and a short dark woman in conversation with someone I knew just at the back door of the music department, so I stopped, nearly hitting a parked car in the process, and it was Jenn and Mark! They had just arrived from their long drive from K-W (nine hours, ladies and gentlemen) and were on their way to Fannie�s to drink beer. Wouldn�t you know, Buddy Boy and I ran into the two ladies in the Provigo as they purchased their Sleeman and Miss Vicky�s jalape�o-flavoured chips. I am giving all secrets away here, nothing is sacred. I�m not quite sure what the plan is, but I think we will meet up sometime today in L�ville during the Friendship Day festivities.

Hopefully Buddy Boy has left me some hot water (it�s been in short supply around here, if you�ve been keeping up). It takes a long time for those 60 gallon tanks to heat up completely, don�t you kow.

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