Vacation Over. Need A Coffee.

Just yesterday, I was still sleeping at this time, about to wake up in half an hour. I could be eating Lucky Charms right now. Naked. Nah, I'd probably just be in my jammies and not bother brushing my hair. Vacations are good.

I had two days at home after Vegas and I did nothing. I cleaned nothing. I organized nothing. I put up no Christmas tree. I did no chores of any kind. I ate Frito pie.

Yeah, you heard me, and this is something I have long wanted to confess. I like Frito pie. I like it in the chip bag eaten with a spork. I like it from Sonic or DQ. I like the chili homemade or out of a can. I like it with generic corn chips or name-brand Frito-Lay products. I like it with more cheese than Ben Affleck's Christmas card. I like Frito pie and I don't care who knows it.

I also like hot dogs and I don't care what they're made of. I will eat them from 7-11. I will eat them from A&W Rootbeer Restaurants. I will eat them at a ball game. I will eat them grilled on the 4th of July or on any given Tuesday. I will eat them microwaved or boiled if I have to. I will eat them footlong or bun-length. I will eat them from a cart in the street. I like hot dogs and I don't care who knows it.

I do not like Moon Pies, however. I just thought you should know.

Thanks For Making Out With Me, Frank From New Jersey.

I stayed out Friday until 8 am. I spent one dollar. Everyone go to Vegas immediately.

Frank has pretty eyes and is an excellent kisser. I would definitely kiss that kid again, if I had the chance.

He let me boss him around a bit. I should have married him.

He didn't believe I am almost 35. I should have given him a son.

I also robbed the cradle a little. I think he was 28. I may start collecting younger men. Remember Clayton from Atlanta? (I don't know how to do internal links so look up the archives from last summer.) I am so going to be Mrs. Robinson.

Vegas bottom line: An excellent time. I only wish I hadn't been too hung over to go to Light, but that's a whole other story.