Last night I had this dream. I was at a party. A fancy dress party, and all of the guys were in these cool tuxedos, and all of us were, quite clearly, fabulously rich. It was a lovely party, and I was enjoying a glass of champagne (served in a lovely crystal flute, of course). The only sour note is that Paris Hilton would not stop throwing up.
Paris Hilton ruins everything.
Somehow, I managed to get out of that dream by being run over by a reindeer, and got into a dream where I was rehearsing for my role in Wicked. That was fun. We had pyrotechnics! Fshooooom!
If I ever left my house, I might have more interesting things to tell you. I will just add that my tummy is about half the size it was two weeks ago. (To clarify: my tum-tum has smallened due to my workout regimen, not from lack of eating. Sorry if I worried you for a moment!)