I’m so horribly behind on my email, y’all. If you’ve emailed me in the last two weeks and I haven’t responded, I’m not ignoring just you, I’m ignoring ALL my email. I’m going to do my veryveryvery best to get caught up on it this weekend. I promise!

I was 75 pages into a Lisa Scottoline book last night when I realized I’d read it before. It had seemed kind of familiar as I read along, but I came upon one certain paragraph – a somewhat pivotal plot point – and the entire plot came back to me in a rush.

I hate it when that happens.

So I put the book up and was looking for another one to start, when I picked up a Sue Miller book. I always read the flyleaf to see what the story’s about, and wouldn’t you know? I already read the damn book. I can even remember where I was when I read most of it – sitting at the spud’s soccer game a couple of years ago.

I was up and out of the house by 9 this morning, because I needed to buy a few things at the grocery store (and stop at McDonald’s for my Friday morning Egg McMuffin and Diet Coke). I wandered about the store picking up this and that, and then went to check out. While I was standing in line, the old guy standing in front of me glanced at me and did a big double-take. I gave him my patented "What? You’ve never seen a fat chick before?" look, and then proceeded to ignore him.

When it was my turn to check out, the cashier smiled and said "Hi! How’re you?", looking up as she did so.

And then she did the double-take. I smiled coolly – honest to GOD, I HAVE LOST 125 POUNDS! I’M NOT THE FATTEST WOMAN IN THE CITY ANYMORE!, I thought to myself – and completed the transaction.

As I was walking out to the parking lot, I looked down into my purse, trying to find my keys. And that’s when I realized what everyone had been looking at.

A couple of buttons on my brand-spankin’-new, never-before-worn shirt had popped open, you see. And Mildred and Myrtle were hanging out merrily in their very sheer bright yellow bra, waving at all and sundry.

Nice start to the day, yes indeed. Needless to say, I came home and sewed the buttons on tighter. Hopefully we won’t be having that problem again anytime soon.

While I’m sharing pictures, I found one yesterday that cracked me up.

See the head in the second window? Know who that belongs to? Dave Barry. Years ago, Debbie and I went to see the Rock Bottom Remainders in Portland – they were benefiting some charity or another. The important thing, to me at least, was that STEPHEN KING was going to be onstage singing and playing the guitar.

As the concert started, I said "They’re not bad!", and Debbie look at me like I was crazy and said "They SUCK!!"

Okay. Maybe they weren’t GOOD, but they didn’t suck, either. Not totally.

After the concert, we went and got the car out of the parking garage, and parked across the street from the theater – there was a hotel directly across the street, and we were parked in front of the hotel. We saw some activity at the back entrance, as Dave Barry and other people – possibly Amy Tan among them – signed autographs and talked to people. I was looking elsewhere for a second, when Debbie said "Um…"

I looked up, and Stephen and Tabitha King walked RIGHT in front of the car, headed for the hotel. My jaw dropped and I gaped at him like the idiot I am. Up the street, a guy yelled "Mr. King! Can I get you to sign this for me?!", and without looking at him, Stephen King yelled back "Sorry, I don’t do that!", and he and Tabitha disappeared into the hotel.

Thisclose to my car, he was!

Over at the theater, Dave Barry and a bunch of other people got into a van and took off, driving by us. I got the above picture as they drove by us, and then we turned around and started following them. They stopped at a convenience store for beer, and Mike (Debbie’s ex) went in and said something like "Good show!" to whomever it was in there (not Dave Barry). We followed them for a while after they left the convenience store, and then we either lost them, got bored, or they went somewhere we couldn’t go. I don’t remember.

It’s not like STEPHEN KING was in the van, after all.

Friday Five:

1. What cologne or perfume do you wear? Right now my current favorite is BCBGirls Star, which I got for Christmas. I also adore Sand and Sable, and Dark Vanilla. I have a lot of different perfume, though, and I wear them all from time to time. If they made a perfume that smells like Yankee Candle’s Buttercream, I’d for sure want that.

2. What cologne or perfume do you like best on the opposite sex? Fred’s started using some Nivea aftershave moisturizing something-or-other that I really like, but I couldn’t tell you what it’s called, ’cause I haven’t a clue. Personally, I like the smell of his skin, particularly the back of his neck, but he thinks that’s weird.

3. What one smell can you not stomach? The smell of cat poo as I go upstairs. If I can smell it as I’m walking upstairs, that means the Mad Shitter has been at it again. The bastard.

4. What smell do you like that others might consider weird? Aside from the smell of the back of Fred’s neck, I kind of like Miz Poo’s fishy breath. Something about it is comforting to me. Shut up.

5. How do you plan to spend your weekend? Aside from the wild monkey sex, you mean? I’m going to do my best to respond to the 100ish emails in my inbox, start sanding the toybox I’ve been meaning to repaint for the last year, and hopefully drag Fred out to look for a new kitchen table. If he doesn’t go shopping with me for it this weekend, I’m going to shop for it myself, and trust me – he won’t like what I end up coming home with. Hear me, you?!

In closing, I leave you with this link, which has me laughing my ass off. For future readers, or if you don’t want to click on the link, here’s the lowdown: the mayor of a small Florida town has come up with a proclamation banishing Satan from her town. And the ACLU says it will file a federal lawsuit unless the proclamation is repealed. Separation of church and state and all that. It’s got to warm Satan’s black heart to know SOMEONE out there is willing to go to bat for him.