Kira is here! I great big giant puffy pink heart her. So much. Really. And not just because I’ve had a fair amount of wine. I swear.
I am fairly certain that the energy created by the three of us all in one place has disrupted the earth’s orbit.
ANYWAY! Kira is talking to her boys in the phone, which has necessitated a break in our studious viewing of The Butterfly Effect. I ran upstairs and grabbed my computer and was only drunkenly confused by its refusal to start up on account of my dead battery and the cord being unplugged for about five minutes. I think.
Joshilyn is just as drink, I mean drunk, I mean drunkened, as we are, and yet, she can follow this movie, somehow. She is astutely untangling the not-plot while Kira and I stare at her through a haze of wine. And she declares the various nuances of the “story” (it has Ashton Kutcher, does it even qualify as an actual story?) quite decisively, ala “If I am wrong, you can make me drink another glass of wine! And if I am correct, well, you can please fetch me another glass of wine!”
They are now discussing smurfs. I do not know. I’m not sure it’s just because of the wine that I don’t get it. But we all seem quite happy. And really, I think Ashton is drunkerer than we are.
Joshilyn has demanded that I not mention Sunday School and nipples in the same sentence, by the way. Ooops! Kira did not impose any restrictions. Tomorrow we are going to eat grits. And I am quite excited. Hopefully Ashton will not be there, because he’s gross.
I still have not seen a single butterfly in this stupid movie. But Joshilyn has discerned so many plot twists that would not have occurred to me… I shall forevermore only watch movies with her commentary. And Kira’s.
Pictures tomorrow. And perhaps Tylenol.