How's this for crazy college life?

Cathleen has a small dinner party where she, in all her domesticated glory, cooks garlic bread, pasta, sauce with meatballs and sausage and chocolate chip cookie bars. The six guests sit around the living room throwing around titles of obscure 80s movies they're sure someone else will remember (and everyone did, except for one movie I remember with Kathy Ireland when she still had a squeaky voice. It had monsters and roller skating and underground tunnels to L.A. - that's all I remember).

This morning I wake up, delighted at the saved time, and Cathleen makes a now-customary Sunday breakfast for me. We eat our fench toast while reading the Sunday paper.

Kids these days. Insanity, eh?

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