TGIF.

It's almost Friday, which means the royal wedding will soon be over, which means I can finally stop pouting. In fact, I'm getting downright cheery because a reliable source has assured me that London's weather will be horrendous. Take that, Kate, for stealing my child(adult)hood dream.

A quick recap:

I'm having a party. Won't you come?

(Thank you, Amy.)

Just back from LA, where the highlights include my spinning debut (DJ Absurd in the house) and a full-frontal pat down administered by a very large, very "urban" LAX security official. Full review (with pictures!) to come.

(Which one of these doesn't belong?)

Loaded up on moving equipment (also just discovered that it's not spelled "equiptment"). Anxious for the parents' reaction to a truckload of Huggies and Seagram's boxes. It's been a very, very productive year and a half.

And finally, will he or won't he? C'mon, Mitch. Stop playing with our hearts.