This afternoon I had a hankering for a smoothie. Since I�m still mad at Jamba Juice for getting snitty about my Internet coupon and for the cashier not being able to correctly count back change, and since I can�t let anything go and hold a grudge like you wouldn�t believe, I�m still shunning the Jamba.

Sure, it�s a superior product. Sure, it�s got the lower-calorie Enlightened base now. Sure, Jamba Joe always slips me a large, saying, �Whoops! Looks like I got some extra berries in there!� as he flashes me his toothy grin.

Despite how much I miss the Jamba, I can�t bring myself to go into that location.

So this afternoon when I wanted a smoothie so badly that I�m wrestle my mother for one, I noticed that au bon pain now has smoothies.

I plunked down the $4 for the regular sized one in strawberry-banana. And although I�ll admit that it�s awfully fruity and a nice try on ABP�s part, it just isn�t a Jamba.

Looks like I�ll have to find a Jamba at a different location.

Today I�m wearing thigh-high pantyhose. They�re like big socks.

Big, sexy socks.

Today�s entry will be useless. Just a warning.

From an IM conversation earlier:

Jo says: it looks like the bad thing in that one movie where I didn�t like the lady

Can you guess what I�m talking about? Benito knew. And for that (and 5286 other reasons), he is wonderful.

I�ve stepped up my letter-writing campaign to my elected officials. I�ve started writing my parents� officials with identical messages to what I wrote that day.

They�ll end up getting letters from their officials with no clue as to what I�m talking about, but the officials will think there�s some husband and wife in Huffman, Texas who think gay marriage is a-okay, fair tax is a good system, and that agricultural subsidies should be removed.

If you knew anything about Huffman, Texas, I swear you�d think the first and third of those items listed were hilarious. They don�t quite fit the demographics.

I�ve yet to mention this because I keep forgetting, but I�ll have a roommate in a few weeks. Happy is moving in with me between her leases, so she�ll camp on an air mattress in my second bedroom since I�ve yet to get a real bed in there.

My house is sparkling, of course, but I need to take steps to de-clutter the closet in that bedroom. I have a few miscellaneous boxes and house supplies stacked in there, and I�m pretty sure that she�ll want to use that space to hang her clothes.

The only unfortunate thing about de-cluttering that closet is that I really and truly don�t have anywhere to put that stuff. I need a dresser in my bedroom pronto. Had I not been so persnickety with the delivery time way back in June when I originally picked out my set, there�d be a dresser in the bedroom for my clothes and a dresser in the second bedroom for computer parts and wires, CD cases, and the other random stuff that I won�t get rid of.

Note to self: Buy the damn bedroom set this weekend and get it over with.

So, Happy. Living in my house for two weeks.

It doesn�t make her a roommate, yet she�s not quite a guest since she�s paying my assessment that month. I have no obligation to feed and entertain her, yet I know I�ll want to.

Food in my house is spaghetti with olive-oiled garlic bread. Entertainment is reading books, writing letters, or cleaning my house. I live in a very quiet house without much action. Shoot, I don�t even have a stereo set up.

I really don�t see how she�ll stand it longer than a few nights. Alas, there is where the situation stands.

I�m happy to have her. But I will admit that it�ll likely be interesting.

I�ve not lived with anyone since early 2002. And since I had lived with that apartment-mate since early 1998, it wasn�t such a big deal at that point. We had plenty of room to not always be in each other�s business. We understood each others� grunts and pointing gestures. We didn�t so much mind the other person always being around.

But things have changed since early 2002.

I don�t watch TV to pass the evenings. I don�t even have an Internet connection in my house to distract me. I read, pet Hambone, and clean or organize to pass the time. I talk to myself, sleep naked, and let the alarm snooze for at least two hours before I wake up and make all sorts of morning routine noises.

In sum, I�m a no-fun roommate.

Let�s hope Happy isn�t expecting too much. If nothing else, the bar around the corner has Blue Moons on tap. Either that or we could get patio chairs and sit on my balcony and drink a 6-pack instead.

Ahhh -- Booze as entertainment. What did we do before we were legal?

Oh yeah. The balcony may be a no-go if this crazy-ass weather keeps up. It�s currently 57 degrees outside, and it�s only gonna get colder as the sun goes down.

Anyone got a little global warming he or she can send in my direction? It would be much-appreciated.

On that note, I�m gonna go find me some mittens. Have a good night. �