Have you found my voice?

I seem to have lost it.

My throat felt a bit scratchy both Thursday and Friday mornings, but nothing major. However, by the time I got home from work Friday my voice kept coming in and out. But I couldn't let that stop me from getting all spruced up so I could go down to Brady's Landing, located on the Houston Ship Channel, for my friend Greta's 40th birthday party. That's right, folks. Forty. The big 4-0. It baffles me that one of my bestest friends is 40; and it baffles her that one of her bestest friends is 27! We just average our ages, making us both 33 (which explains why I so relate to Bridget Jones...minus the slightly alcoholic, chain smoking and having sex part).

Driving across town at 9 p.m., I ran into major traffic. Darn road construction! But I was able to eventually get out of it, backtrack, and take an alternate route, which I love always being able to figure out!

I got home around 1 a.m. and went straight to bed. But when I woke up this morning, I couldn't talk. At all! I was meeting my friend, Becca, for a movie and lunch at Alamo Drafthouse, but instead of being able to call to rearrange our plans, I had to email and then text her to make sure she checked her email! How sad is THAT?!

We watched The Bourne Ultimatum. I really liked it, but while I was watching it, I couldn't help but realize that the whole movie was made up by three or four major chase sequences, that usually ended in a fight. That one chase when the assassin was chasing the chick and Bourne was chasing both of them frustrated me (don't want to give away too much, just in case). I felt it went on a bit too long and I wished the guy would catch her already! Anywho, like I said, I enjoyed the movie and I especially liked that Jason Bourne didn't kill unnecessarily.

Before the movie, there were an awful lot of adverts for movies about the end of the world. Which freaked me out a bit, cause I had a very vivid dream along those lines last night. I won't go into details because it will make this post even longer than it already is. Either God was trying to tell me something, which He tends to do in my dreams, OR that's what happens when you mix being sick with watching an episode of Jericho and teaching your students about flags and symbols, plus living near West Houston Airport and seeing the sign everyday, and all the talk in the news about bringing troops home. Did I already mention it was a very vivid dream and I remember all of it?

Anywho, after the flick, we went down to Starbucks, where I had a Green Tea Latte. I thought it was pretty good, as far as dark green drinks go.

Now, I'm home, watching the Astros spank the Pirates, getting ready to eat something I shouldn't eat, which I won't mention here because my brother, Bird, will probably judge me because he'll be jealous.

So now ends my post about losing my voice and all that's happened in between. Forgive this long rambling (and any typing errors; I'm too lazy to proof read), but this is my only form of communication now. My last link to the speaking world. Hopefully all will be well soon. It sucks not being able to talk.