I am Not Your Housewife. I am Your ApartmentGirlfriend.

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I had the brilliant idea on Saturday night while at karaoke to make a list of all the housecleaning duties that need to be done on a fairly regular basis and then to write up two separate lists for what I often do and what he often does and, needless to say, it led to an in public fight consisting mostly of hissing comments made across the table at one another because we were around a bunch of others trying to have fun. It did not, as I had hoped, lead to Shawn wanting to take a greater part of the housekeeping duties but rather to him telling me I should clean his bathroom and he'll pay the phone bill. Or something like that.



We watched more of the American Idol auditions last night (Boston), and I have to admit that I have a slight crush on Simon, if only because he's the only honest one of all three judges. Paula A. would tell a ventriolquist to keep trying and the other guy is too nice as well, except when he's holding his head in his hands and laughing while the contestant is still singing. So much of this show has to be staged. I would never ever try out for American Idol (I know I can't sing) and so I wonder why is that some of these people give it a shot at all when they are so bad. One girl actually did the theme from the Mickey Mouse Club. Can that be real?

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