Crap Sandwich Redux

Well, the cell store in the plaza where Favorite Cousin and I went to eat closed 6 minutes before we got there, so I still have no phone. Buddy has an old phone that I might be able to borrow, but he's a little erratic about this sort of thing.

At the restaurant, we had to wait almost an hour for a table because waiters kept on seating their friends before us. Note to waiters: if you're going to do that, don't make it obvious; we probably wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't been squealing and hugging. When we finally got seated, our waitress somehow forgot to put in our entree order so we had to wait even longer.
To make up for it, we took the nice glass shakers from our frou-frou drinks that were left at the table. Of course, mine cracked-not on the ride home, not as I washed it out, not as it sat on the edge of the kitchen counter, but as it sat on a shelf in my room not being touched or moving in any way.

After dinner I watched Anchorman by myself. At one point I leaned over to pick up my drink and heard an odd noise. The butt on my jeans ripped open. Not a totally unusual occurrence until you realize that these jeans are less than 6 months old, fit me, and the rip did not start on a seam.

There was an extra Dance Group rehearsal from 1-3 today, but since I don't have access to an alarm clock and was up until almost 4am because I don't have the ability to fall asleep anymore, I woke up at 1:45. I was and am in no mood to go. I told a Capoeira guy that I'd meet him at 3 to do some training and I'm going to have to force myself to go even though he's a spazz and will try to "correct" me when he should really just shut up.

JerseySjov is bummed out, people.