I had lunch Saturday with Jen and Shari, a lady I worked with at my last job. Unfortunately, she has gained weight on her already overweight figure. She just bought a house, which she has been trying to do for over 4 years. It was sounding like she was getting her life together, which she is, but I was hoping she'd lost some weight. Not that that affects whether I like her or not. I just know her diet, and her health cannot be good.

We had a lot of fun reminiscing and reliving our bitterness about our jobs as contractors for IBM, Jen included. Hopefully Shari will invite us to her house-warming party.

Jeff was busy all weekend putting a new motor in his truck. He ran into a few problems and was not able to finish, so I had to take him to work this morning. Luckily, he worked on his truck there at the shop, and can order parts to be delivered there. His boss is very cool. He gave Jeff keys to the shop and said he could work on anything he wanted to there on the weekends (when they are closed). This gives him access to the diagnostic tools, A/C machines, lifts, tire mount equipment, etc. Not to mention all of his tools are there. And when I say all, I mean a lot. Probably at least $40,000 worth.

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So, I watched some new episodes of Trading Spaces. I agree with Weetabix, Doug is quite swishy. I've also added him to the list with Hildy of designers I would not even allow in my yard if I were to sign up to do that show. And the one that Laurie did, while it was ok, she moved the TV to the opposite wall from where the cable comes into the room. They don't even take things like that into consideration. Like covering surround sound speakers, and putting hay on the wall in the house of a toddler. Sheesh. My husband said you could always go into the attic and move the cable outlet, but this was an apartment and not everyone is as handy as he is. Oh, well. OH! And taking ceiling fans down. What is up with that? They said beforehand that the room gets hot. Hello?!? I could never sign up to do that show. I could not risk having Hildy, Doug, or Frank for that matter in my house. I'd also have too many restrictions that they obviously would not follow - no pastels, no floweredy crap, no frou frou, no lace, no straw on the walls, ABSOLUTELY NO PINK, and leave my damn ceiling fan alone! OK, replace it with a cooler one. That'd be fine. I did like Doug's blood red walls, though, and the wrought iron light fixture. That's about it.

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If I have to hear that damn Enrique Iglesias song again, I may shoot someone. "You can run, you can hide, but you can't escape my love." Weren't the stalker laws written for just this type of thing? And what's with him sounding like a harpooned seal at the end? "You can ruuuuuuuuuuu-UH-un." Um, yeah I can. Can you? I'll give you a head start while I load my gun.