Remember that little trickle of phlegm that had rented out space in my throat the other night? Well, I think it just moved in for good. The lovely Indian doctor I saw yesterday says I probably have bronchitis. I was going to go to work today, but the coughing kept me up til past 3 AM, and so I figured, hmm, maybe I'm not in very good shape to go to school.

But I'm working at home today, so it's all good. Grading papers and whatnot.

I felt well enough Saturday night to invite a couple of College Girls Gone Wild over. (They're actually members/directors on the staff of my theatre group, in case you're wondering why I'm hanging out with so many college-age people.) Spitfire just got back from a whirlwind tour of East Asia, where she not only brought me this nifty scroll written in Chinese, but she also broght me this little guy seen below.

He's called a tanuki. And he has huge fucking balls. He also carries a fashionable-looking handbag, and what looks like either a sack of money or a jug of liquor.

Spitfire is the coolest. Almost as cool as China, which used to be cool.

I'm sure at this point I could spin this marvelously dirty tale of me and two college girls partying it up all night, but that would be a big fat lie. Since most everything in here is true, I can tell you that we just sat and talked about traveling to faraway places, and the little alcohol that was consumed was by those over 21.

Speaking of women, tonight I was supposed to have drinks with The Actress, but since I'm currently doing my best Doc Holliday imitation, I had to cancel. There is a tentative rain date on Thursday, which is going to be tricky, since I might be having lunch with Suburban Artist and Friend of the Artist. Stay tuned.