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Dear Friends:

Never fear! Runawaytruck.com has been renewed. I know how you worry.

So… things that have happened since last we spoke:

• We went to see Har Mar Superstar at Loring Park Monday night. Those tight bell-bottoms with the beer belly hanging over the top make for one sexy man indeed. The show was great, as was the people-watching.

  Afterwards, we were dining at Luce. For the first time in recorded history, they tried to kill me. Or make me puke. Or piss me off? Anyway. Dude put chicken on the pizza. And I ate two bites of said pizza before running to the bathroom. I was unhappy, and yet unwilling to throw a fit because 1) I may not be the queen of subtle, but I’m not much for histrionics either, and 2) I’m a regular. And they’ve been good to me, they have.

  At the end of dinner, Har Mar wandered in. I got to shake his hand. For such a substantial man, he’s very little.

• Tuesday night, I hung out with the family. I made a fruitless attempt to teach my dad good walking posture, to help with his neck problem.
  me: Head up, shoulders rolled back and down. Pretend you’re holding a tennis ball between your shoulder blades.
  dad: But the men will look at my breasts!
  me: They do that regardless. You might as well make them look good. Now… lead with your hips.
  dad: But the men will look at my crotch!
  me: OK, I give up.

  Also, we found photos of my brother, Escobar Sanchez, very early in his career as a drug lord.

  

• Yesterday, uh. Me, Stephanie, bitch bitch moan moan. The usual. There was some kinda marathon downtown. It was like 95 degrees outside.

• Today I was off work so I could do stuff. Extremely important stuff! I walked around Calhoun. It was perfect outside. (NTS: wear pants with pockets or ones not so loose around the waist; the iPod likes to pull your pants down.) I had lunch with some old coworkers from that shitty company that laid us all off, then tanked. During lunch, I devised a new diet plan. It involves only dining with friends you haven’t seen in a while. When you do so, you talk so much you forget to eat. Caveat: this plan will not work for you if your life is boring.

  Which reminds me!! I wrote a diet yesterday, for real! I plan on making millions of dollars selling this diet, because I have an excellent test patient. Can’t. Go. Wrong.

  After lunch, I brought the lil’ rig in for an oil change. It was going to take them way too long for me to consider hanging out knitting, so I walked home. Once I got home, I promptly freaked about not having a car, feeling trapped. Which is stupid considering I could ride my bike if I actually had anywhere I desperately needed to go, which I didn’t. I cleaned the house and did my laundry and then walked back when my car was done, and it cost me $8.50. Once again: can’t go wrong.

  Tonight: more stuff! Yessss!

• Secret note to Homie: Times have changed. Careful about upsetting the balance of the universe; it may anger the gods.

I’m gone this weekend, so behave yourselves. You don’t have to miss me, but don’t go stealing my parking spot.

Bye!
Jenni