On mornings like this, when I don't have an inspiration (yet) for what to write in here I often open up the page and I am fully expecting that someone else will have posted something to my website and that that something else will inspire me to write something steeped in genius. But alas, the only person who writes anything here is me. And I can usually remember the last thing I wrote.

My mother is coming into town this weekend. She'll be staying with us for the weekend, and then staying in a hotel nearer to her worksite for the rest of her visit (it is business after all). This is exciting. My mom doesn't usually come to Boston, just my dad. The last time my dad was here, he told me that he wanted me to add another door on the opposite side of our bathroom so that he could have his own apartment within the apartment. My dad loves J****'s cooking, and every time he visits he requests that she make blueberry pancakes.

My mom and my dad are currently in an argument over whether or not she should ask J**** to make blueberry pancakes. He says that she needs to request them soon so that I can get the necessary groceries. She says "I might not want blueberry pancakes, you know me." So he called me to tell me that we should just make them anyway. I think that really what's happening is HE wants blueberry pancakes and is hoping to live vicariously through her. She will probably just want to sleep in that day, though.