Barb was conducting a yard sale with one of her obese sisters, so it was just me and Dad. I was immediately bored to tears. In Anniston, you either drive around looking at expensive houses that you'll never afford or go to Wal-Mart for fun. We did the former, but not the latter. They want to sell their house because "the blacks are surrounding" them. Barbara showed me one house she liked but Dad didn't because a black family lived across the street. Well, I guess they can afford a better house than yours, Dad.

The food situation was just short of grim. Barb cooked me some sort of pasta salad in a box thing for lunch Friday. For dinner, I had Ryan's salad bar which was actually pretty good. Breakfast Saturday was biscuits with jelly and a banana. Lunch was a mish-mash of canned and fresh vegetables from her arsenal. I swear, she has enough canned, frozen, fresh, and leftover food to feed an army. I always tell her she's prepared for the apocalypse. Anyway, I got a lot of "do you eat [blank]?" and "what do you eat?" - even from my brother.

At one point, I rode with Barbara to the drug store. She drove up to the drive thru window, which had a CLOSED sign up. Regardless, she rang the buzzer repeatedly. I actually got embarrassed. I said, "I think we should go in." She replies, "No, she sees me." As my brother said, she couldn't have actually parked and walked into the store. She might have burned a calorie.

Saturday was numbingly boring. I was fighting sleep, having not slept well in 2 nights. My niece was not there, which I initially thought was a good thing. It might have been more interesting had she been there. I didn't get to swim at all due to the crappy weather. Barbara returned to the yard sale, and Dad and I sat around watching TV. He kept saying, "Do you want to go somewhere?" Where, Wal-Mart? No thanks. I left for B'ham around 2:00.

Let's see. We did a little shopping, had dinner at a place called Chez Lulu (which was the gayest restauant I've ever been in - our waiter had on a crushed velvet shirt and a 70s flower patterned apron. We then went to see Minority Report. It was surprisingly very good. I recommend it, but not for those who are sqeamish about vomit. Actually, there's only one scene. Go with someone who can tell you when to close your eyes/ears. It's set in 2054, and they use a weapon they call the "sick stick" which causes projectile vomiting. I guess that's one way to subdue a suspect. They also used this sonic boom type gun that knocked the victim across the room. I want one of those.

Sunday we sat around watching TV until lunch. Scott and I then went in search of SmartDogs. They had them at the second Bruno's we went to. After lunch, we went shopping again. I bought too much stuff at a place called Organized Living, which is similar to the Container Store here in Atlanta. Scott and I love this place. We are such geeks. I bought a wrap organizer. You know, to organize sandwich bags, foil, plastic wrap, etc. Yes, I did need it. Shut up.

We went to a mall where I bought a Victoria's Secret strapless bra and a Double Doozie. For anyone who doesn't know what this is, it's basically two cookies with cake icing in the middle. I can usually eat only half of one. It is sooooooo good. It's probably like 5000 calories, but I don't care. The Diet Coke cancels it out, right?

Scott did ask me why I quit eating meat. I said at first I didn't want to get into it because he'd make fun of me. He said he wanted to hear it. I said I didn't necessarily disagree with eating meat, but I disagreed with how animals are treated in factory farms. I then said that a vegetarian saves an estimated 83 animals a year. He didn't say anything else. I'm not sure if he was biting his tongue or what. I think he respects the fact that it's my decision, and none of his business.

I know I'm forgetting something, like something funny either Scott or I said or some ridiculously ignorant and/or racial comment from my parents. Maybe I'll add them in future entries.

-----------------------------

Animal lovers - go read this entry by Weetabix. She and her husband's 19 year old cat, Chelsea, has passed from this life. Having just lost Thor in April, it definitely hit home for me.

-----------------------------

This is from my friend, Kellie's site. She and two other "nice bitches" run the bloodyrag.com. Also check out one of her other sites, Mental Toilet. She's one funny bitch.

I don't agree, but...

Take the What High School

Stereotype Are You? quiz, by Angel.