Saran Wrap Hat

I sit here discussing cheesecake recipes and music with my brother J, in my self-fashioned saran wrap hat (keeps some heat in), waiting for the blood red dye to set so I can annoy the housekeeping staffs of Vegas with pink stained pillowcases.

Later I will have to find something open so I can eat (Is Starbucks open on Easter Sunday?) and I am celebrating this lovely Christian holiday by again pretending to be Jewish and ignoring it totally. (I asked my mother if she wanted me to come over . . . "why bother?" was the reply. So much for family togetherness) I do have to mow the lawn . . . so maybe that can be seen as a celebration of the resurrection (in that I'm causing the grass to grow more? hmmm). I'm sure I'll probably use the Lord's name in vain a couple of times to get the lawnmower started.

So I'm definitely going to hell . . . at least that is my status today. In my saran wrap hat.