Early on St. Patrick's Day I got a text message from someone whom I'm on a bit of a break from while I work on this whole "sanity" thing. (Verdict: OVERRATED.) The message read:

"Let's go get shamrock tattoos in Hollywood tonight. What do you think, Babe? Then we can drink Jameson afterward."

Well DAMN. He knows me, people.

We made it up to LA by midnight, had a few beers at the tattoo shop, and true to the plan got shamrock tattoos. (Not matching ones, though. This is a step in the right direction, since the last time we got tattooed together we got each other's initials. Um. Yeah.)

It was a lovely night. And that's all I really have to say about it.

Cheers.

Posting will likely be light for the next few weeks as I finish up work on my graduate thesis, which is due in just over a month.

(Or start it. Whatevs.)