3:30 a.m. pot theft

Last night I went with a lady friend to go see New Moon. Yes, I'm that girl. I'm not THAT that girl, as were many of the young ladies standing in line at the mall movie theater last night. I've never worn moccasin Uggs with black leggings with a Team Jacob t-shirt, topped off with messy pigtails. I'm just not that kind of that girl.

Team Edward? Maybe.

Lucky for you, this isn't a movie review. All I can say about the movie is that with all the chest-baring, there wasn't a dry panty in the house. And that it wasn't nearly as bad as the last one. Mostly because of the chest-baring. I mean, "special effects."

The movie let out around 3 a.m. and I was dropped off at my doorstep only to turn around, hop in my car and head over to dog-sit for a friend of mine. Earlier that night, I had about 30 minutes in between working and movie and those minutes were meant for 30 Rock and some soup - not dog-sitting.

3:30 a.m.? That's meant for dog-sitting, obviously.

Upon arriving at my friend's house, I started to realize just how dark and creepy it is when digging for a key in a mailbox at 3:30 a.m. I let myself in, let the dog out, then busied myself doing what every dog-sitter does: dig through their friend's stuff.

I'm not interested in the normal snoopy type of things, mind you. I know what medications she has behind her mirror. I know what kind of vodka she has in her freezer (the none kind of vodka, because she drinks it too fast to freeze it). I know where her vibrators are stashed and what their names are. I'm interested in bigger and better things.

Namely, shit she's stolen from me.

Which is why I found myself walking out of a dark duplex at 3:45 a.m. last night carrying a bulky load, fighting to keep her 75 pound dog inside while balancing my precarious cargo. What did I steal?

Three pots. How does someone manage to steal all three of your pots? A giant 8 quart stockpot, a 4 quart pasta pot and my Crock Pot. Why would a single gal living alone with a 75 pound dog need all three of my giant pots?

I guess the better question would be "why would a single gal living alone with a 4 pound dog be stealing back her giant pots at 3:30 in the morning?"

Answer? Bitch, it's late November and I haven't had chili all year. And I AM that kind that girl.