So many friends, so little time!

We had our Special Assembly Day this past weekend, which was a ginormous blast! I spent the weekend with a good friend, which is always fun. That morning, though, she had to box-guard, so I went to the Altar of Fantastical Goodness to feed our mutual addiction. Otherwise known in the real world as Caribou Coffee. You know those carrier things they give you when you have more than one cup to...carry? Well, here's a tip. Don't - I repeat, don't - try to carry that and a muffin bag in the same hand. You might think it's a good idea at the time, but here's what happens. You give your friend her coffee once you've carried everything inside like the pack mule that you are. Then, you breathe deeply, inhaling as much of the glorious aroma as you can before gingerly taking a sip. Just to whet your appetite. A couple of sips later, you are informed that you have something on your shirt. Looking down, you discover that in your eagerness and pure delight, you have dripped *raspberry* coffee on your *lime green* shirt.

D'oh.

Then, you hand off said coffee to your older brother, who had previously expressed a curiosity about the coffee. Moments later, you glance at him and do a comic double-take. On the bottom part of his suit jacket you spy several dark lines. He has a sheepish grin on his face and comments, "The lid leaks."

Alrighty then.

You still have spots on your shirt that, despite your best efforts in cleaning, are still there, only wetter and darker. You continue through the day looking like a psychedelic Christmas doll, getting thankfully few comments on the unique pattern of your shirt.

However, at the end of the day, you wish you'd gotten a remark or two on the interesting pattern of your *skirt*. Evidently, while carrying in the coffee that morning (see top of entry), you had dripped more coffee on your skirt than your top. You, naturally, didn't realize this until AFTER the sessions were over and you were sitting patiently at a box.

Thankfully, no one seems to have noticed. But...that was my favorite skirt! Sigh.

The day was good though, despite this incident. Nichole and I had so much fun this weekend, I don't know where to begin. One thing I will say is that there is now a new word in existence: Poosemonkey. We're not sure what it means yet, but I'm using it as a good frustration word. Like, "Oh, poosemonkeys!" Although I did call my cousin Brandon a poosemonkey last night, because - in one of his rarer moments - he was being a dope. (In case you're wondering, Coley and I were watching Holy Grail, and when trying to read the subtitles in the beginning, she tried to say moose, but it came out "poose". That kept us going all night. Things went downhill from there!)

Between this and a late-night game of Pictionary with a small group, I still feel like laughing crazily!