Here goes nothing.

I'm going to stay at her place next week, so I think I have to do her thing. Because you know if I don't she's going to give me that look.

Right now there are two Russian men talking their Russian-talk while examining my oven. One of them just demanded to know when the last time is that I "use bake." "The oven, you mean?" I said, and they fixed me with the most witheringest of stares. I'm going to go ahead and guess they were molecular biochemists, before they decided to bring their family to Jersey.

Aren't you glad I'm going to post every day? Of course you are.