It's Friday night.
My friends' Facebook status's are all about the fantastic food they are preparing for Sunday's Survivor party.
Chris is in the kitchen making BLT sandwiches.
My step-brother Michael flies in from Portland, OR tomorrow morning. My friend Lori arrives from Colorado later in the evening. Jane, Gary and Rich all arrive from the Bay area Sunday morning.
RSVPs to the party have topped 100 and friends are arriving from all over the place.
And this morning Seamus decided to dress himself (yes, he did this himself--by rolling around on top of a pile of laundry) in what shall hence forth be known as a "B*&#h Beater" tank top (Hey!! He's a dog!!! It makes total sense).
I'm a Survivor. And life is good.