Where did today go? I'm making my nightly rounds here while sipping a warmed up cup of decaf with a shot of ovaltine. My poor tummy. We went out to dinner at a Mexican restaurant with sis-in-law and her boyfriend--somethin' Rodeo. My first time there. The place was suspiciously large enough to throw cock fights. My food tasted like a cock fight. I had el numero ocho at sis-in-law's recommendation. Basically the waiter could have brought me whatever and I wouldn't have known the difference. Maybe he did. It looked like a tube spat my food on the plate. I'm just not into Mexican food. I like my rendition of Mexican--throw a carb-conscious, high-fiber tortilla in a pan for toasting; top it with Newman's pineapple salsa and fat-free cheddar; and maybe some refried beans (but not for awhile after tonight). People are going to start accusing me of being bulimic. But I've got raw talent, I swear! I can binge, digest, and purge. It's like hyper-digestion. It's a gift, lemme tell ya. It's almost more embarrassing to let on that dinner isn't sitting well than to sneak a spoon off the table and head for the can. Powder my nose. Heh. I'm glad I'm married, simply because my Virginian intestines couldn't handle the dating scene.