Now last week, there was a crappy week. Thinking back, the only two highlights were my advisor's apt reference to blogging in class on Tuesday (it seems like just yesterday he was confessing ignorance of the genre) and the call from Adam this Friday officially including me in his wedding party. As Jenna can attest, I was apparently the only one who thought I hadn't already been asked.

Adam, if you're reading this: I don't know what's happened to my phone skills, which seem to have really deteriorated since high school. I submit that henceforth we communicate exclusively via telegraph.

Or passenger pigeon. Am I the only person who just doesn't understand why we can't bring back extinct species? I mean, sure genetic information degrades, but shouldn't it degrade randomly? And if I have a million passenger pigeon cells... I mean, come on, let's do this!

The sooner we bring back the dodo, the sooner we can learn if they do, in fact, "fry up real nice." With sweet and sour sauce.

I wrote down all sorts of information, but since the wedding is months away I feel no need to remember anything but the date, August 19th. As with the Politician's wedding, I have no real responsibilities, which suits me fine; getting to the church on time is usually enough of a challenge.

Saturday night I baked a cake, not to celebrate this pseudo-news — if anything, it was for earning the easy-level takedown trophy in Burnout 3 — but because I had the yellow cake mix and was hungry. My homemade chocolate frosting was awful, which means the cooking curse is still on.

I actually went out and bought a bag of potatoes in the hopes that I can break the curse tonight. It's a complicated story involving demon-children and peyote, but suffice it to say that I don't so much have a spirit animal as I do a spirit vegetable.