I Got Nothing

We had company all last week. Company that left this morning. So needless to say, I haven't been getting jack shit done in the reading department. A shame too, since I'm reading the intriguing Strip Poker by Lisa Lawrence right now. More on it after I actually finish it, but it's dubbed an "erotic thriller" (which it is - nary anything romantic in sight thus far) and I'm loving the heroine. She's smart, she's resourceful, she's "worldly", she's sort of a jack of all trades.

Other various quick hits:

The Boyfriend took our company to the San Diego Zoo last week, along with our digital camera. What does he bring me home from this excursion? Digital photos of a monkey pleasuring himself. Hey, I know monkeys have needs to, but it's just not something I need to see.

I need to go home tonight and take stock of my kitchen.

And do laundry.

And clean our bathroom.

And figure out what I'm taking to work for lunches the rest of the week. I killed off the last of the eggrolls today.

Oprah is annoucing a new book club pick on Friday. It's supposedly going to be non-fiction, which means Wendy is praying to the Oprah gods that it doesn't fall under the Dewey Decimal numbers of 000, 400 or 800 and then I won't have to be responsible for buying 70 gazillion copies. Nothing I love more than passing the buck when it comes to an Oprah pick.

I got a crap load of books last week, which is probably a good thing since I'm putting myself on a strict book buying diet until further notice. I got an order from eHarlequin (mostly western Harlequin Historical titles), and muchos libros from Sybil. It was like Christmas at my house last week.