OK, so the weekend wasn't as boring as I thought it would be. Friday night SkooterPie and I went to an art opening at Rhodes, and that led to a late dinner at Las Margaritas with about eight other people. I've never eaten there before, but I drive by the place all the time and have often wondered what a Mexican restaurant in a strange Midtown hotel is like. Turns out that it's pretty nice. And they make their margaritas pretty darn strong. More on that in a minute. Jesse did the Freedom Friday thing, and managed not to lose any dental devices. Hooray!

I managed to convince SkooterPie to go to the football game with me Saturday night, which meant Jesse had no choice but to go too. We lost spectacularly. This is seriously turning out to be the worst football season in a loooooong time for the Tigers. We may not win another game all season. It was ugly, people. But I'm still glad we went. During the game, I turned around to Ron and his sister and started telling them about the weird dream I had about Jesse driving and then the other weird dream I had about Madonna asking me to be her new nanny. And then Jesse said: "Mom, tell them about when you were trying to go to sleep but the room was spinning." So there's the end of my Friday night with two margaritas story. Ugh. Tequila. Never ends well, I tell ya.

One of the people we hung out with at Las Margaritas decided to cook a big pot of soup Sunday night and invited us all over. Jesse was the only kid there, of course. But our host owns a foosball table and her TV is equipped with cable, so he was fine. We ate soup while smallish dogs ran around the house raising a ruckus. There were two pugs, a dachsund and a Schnauser (?). One of the pugs was wearing a pair of devil horns. Too cute. Jesse loved all over all the dogs. Except for the Schnauser, which he claimed was evil. One of the dogs pooped in the floor where the foosball table was, but Jesse didn't throw up, which is a miracle. After dinner we played board games. I was in the group playing Taboo, and SkooterPie was in the group playing Pictionary. Jesse entertained himself with his gameboy. I was really proud of him because all in all he behaved himself all night. He's pretty good around adults and can hold up his end of a conversation. Of course it helps that these are all people who are well-versed in the programs of Cartoon Network.

Strange news of the day: There's a manatee swimming around in the Mississippi River near Mud Island. When it was first called in the animal control people (or was it the police?) said "A dead body maybe, but there's no way it's a manatee." It's just been that kind of year in Memphis.

My new favorite TV show: Heroes. I would watch it only for the little Japanese guy, Hiro. He makes that show. I'm less enamored of Lost so far this season. The Office has also become must watch television for me. I still love the BBC version best. But Steve Carrell is soooo good and last week's episode with the pretzel day plotline was hysterical.

I got an e-mail last week that National Novel Writing Month kicks off in November. I signed up for it last year and didn't write a word. The idea is to write a 50,000-word novel in 30 days. That's it. It doesn't even have to be good. The point is that there are thousand of people out there who have a dream of writing a novel. So, why not now? I've never tried to write a novel before. Hell, I've barely written anything fiction in the last few years, except for one children's story. I've written down ideas for books. So I should just pick one, right, and go for it. OK, so here's a plan. I could sign up for NaNoWriMo again and write the book here. It would be about 1,700 words a day. Hell, I've written almost 700 words up to this point on this pointless blog entry. Except that the idea sort of makes my chest tighten. Why is the idea of writing a book so scary? I know why, of course. Because who the hell am I to write a book? That's why. Still. I'll think about it. But, man, these blog entries could get seriously annoying.