tore up from the floor up

this is me, arriving home this evening courtesy of southwest scarelines and the always lovely san jose airport. actually, it's not me. it's a kitten. and that's food -- something i forgot to engage with this evening during any of the hours that could be considered prime dinner hours.

was supposed to go to a friend's bday party and realized upon arriving in burbank that i had scores of unanswered emails that needed to be addressed if i am to rise at 5 am and make the journey back to palm springs tomorrow, so i came home and dove into work until just a few minutes ago, when i decided it was "wine thirty" and had a little nightcap. the mister and phriedz are at said party, so i sit here by my lonesome (save for two halfway-trained yet adorable canine companions) and i wish i could've gone, but time flies when you're on the habitrail. ok, i'm done with whining (this second, anyway).

in other news, the next time someone asks me to divulge something i don't want to divulge, i will be citing "executive privilege." it's all the rage, doncha know.