Okay, maybe I’ll go a little more into what we did this weekend:

Saturday, after I picked my sister up from the airport, and while we waited for her friend Timi to make it to town, we got our nails done. She got her fingernails done while I got a pedicure. Or, shall I say, while I got my right big toe butchered? They cut the crap out of my toe and blood was everywhere. They did use lots of disinfectant (ow, stinging pain) so I reckon there’s little chance of it falling off.

Worse, the nail painting job wasn’t even good. Though I suppose the pedicurist was somewhat wary after the near-amputation. And to add insult to injury, they charged me for it! Well, my sister paid. I would’ve refused. But what can you do?

Timi is funny. She makes me laugh. We watched Dr. Doolittle on Sunday because she could not stop quoting lines from it. Hmm. Yes, she is 33 years old. But I have to admit, it was pretty good. (Go on, rent it. It’s true!)

Last night George and I went to see Vanity Fair. It was long, a bit too long, but interesting. I dreamed in Indian colors last night. It was definitely a gorgeous film, at least.