so Michael, what's to stop you from doing this?

I turned 25 on the 30th, an experience best left as low-key as it was; there's no joy in being able to measure one's lifespan in terms of a century. My father and aunt came through town for a whirlwind lunch at Olive Garden on the 1st, leaving Godiva chocolate and some wicked good nutty mini croissants in their wake. My mom spent the past weekend up here, shopping on Saturday (have you ever bought something off the rack that was meant for you? TWICE) with dinner at Texas de Brazil Churrascaria (the garlic sirloin was dreamy, though really, if you're going to have men with large knives and skewered meat walking all around, take away their shirt privileges) and ( Universal Studios on Sunday. )

Workwise, I haven't not wanted to go into the office as much as today in a long time - my co-crime reporter quit two weeks ago, conveniently right after being out for a month for surgery, and the reporter who mentored me and commiserated about the fact that one of our direct supervisors actually uses the phrase "I'm gonna need you to go ahead and..." has switched offices because he hated being stuck with higher education (after BOTH our education reporters left, with no replacements planned) and now works out of our Winter Haven bureau. I may have cried a little watching him pack up his stuff Wednesday night. Oh, and they switched my weekends to Saturday/Sunday a couple weeks ago to keep the cops shift covered with overtime, so I now see flatword for an hour before work, for a half-hour dinner if we can get out, and about two hours afterward until I inevitably fall asleep on the sofa. Let me tell you how well that's working out for us.

( But then... )

Otherwise, Brandon plays a lot of Halo 3, I play a lot of Warcraft, and we respectively try to make time for reading and ( TV. )

Oh, and how did the Defuser win Who Wants to Be a Superhero? Hyperstrike must've kicked a puppy or something in the last episode.