I don't remember Thursday. i know I came home sometime in the afternoon, but nothing beyond that. I think I might have sent some e-mails and played TradeWars. I also somehow managed to tape Smackdown without watching it, so I may have been vegging in front of the TV in the living room...

Friday, my intentions fell to the floor and I ended up helping Jean move some stuff from her old place to her new place. Then we hit The Roost, that dive bar over on Los Feliz in Atwater. We drank a fair bit and shot the shit with two couples that work for Hot Topic, either at a store or at corporate. I was, in fact, the only one not affiliated with the company, as even Jean's boyfriend Christian once worked at the same store she did like over a year or two ago. Still, it was a decent enough time and folks were more than willing to buy me drinks if I would go and get them, since everyone but me was crammed into a booth. Turns out if you order simple, commonplace drinks (2-3 ingredients and speak clearly), they won't completely fuck them up and you'll have something drinkable...as opposed to ordering, say, a Long Island Iced Tea and getting battery acid with a lemon wedge.

Got home, realised I'd lost my keys and so was locked out...but eventually found a way in, so no big deal there.

Saturday, I helped Jean almost completely empty out the apartment and planned on going out to eat after she and her new roomie got back from Ikea. Nick called while I was watching TV and he had Courtney in tow. so I told 'em to head on over. Called Jean, suggested we hit BJ's instead of Acapulco and blazed out of there, listening to the country version of Snoop Dog's Gin and Juice. It takes them days for them to get from Ikea to BJ's and I hope it was from loading and not because the only time Jean goes to Burbank is when she's hitting Ikea, but eventually she makes it and somewhere along the line Hank was invited, so ultimately we're a party of six, chowing away at food that's a little too expensive in a restaurant that takes itself too serously. And apparently my permit has been in my wallet so long it's faded, so I couldn't get a drink there if I wanted one. Overzealous fucks. Can someone explain to me the myth wherein it's easier to manufacture an expired California ID than a current one? 'Cause unless you got it in the 1980's, that's crap. We've all got the holograms now. Anyway, the pizza was fucking mediocre and despite having a very light lunch that consisted primarily of rice, I didn't really want more than a slice, so I had 'em box the rest. Also, their "Pizookie" is a fucking joke. It's a large cookie, in a pan, that isn't fully baked due to it's size. Topped with ice cream. Was it tasty? Yes. Overpriced? To be sure. I think I'm seriously going to be second-guessing any suggestions to return to this restaurant. I suspect that hwne a restaurant makes it's own beer, it's just an excuse to gauge you for the other items on the menu.

Wanted to go clubbing, but no one else did, and it ended up being too late. Sort of wanted to go tonight, but I didn't want to engage in the pain in the ass of trying to drag Jean to Kink, but depending on how this evening goes, I may be wishing I'd just gone by myself.

We'll see...