Lina, 30, passed away on Monday night when her fiancee left her home alone to go out with his college buddies. Bored, she began packing for their upcoming move to the historic district of Savannah, GA. She drowned in a sea of paperbacks after a weighty tome of Sherlock Holmes stories fell out of her guest room closet and knocked her out. Her funeral day will not be disclosed; afterwards, everyone is going to a huge party at Pink Pony, per her final requests. She leaves behind a very sexy widower, many friends, many enemies, some frenemies, several love interests, and two dogs. She leaves her Tiffany engagement ring to be fought over by her two closest friends, and she will be missed.

A tad dramatic, I know. You would be too if your dinner was a pitcher of margaritas and cheese straws, and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle had bashed your brains in. Scott’s been gone since 5 with other Auburn alumnies *gag* , and I am bored. I watched tv, played around on the computer, and read as long as I could, but as soon as I broke out the blender, those words were wriggling worse than Scott at the reptile exhibit. hehehehehe So, I thought of getting a head start on packing without Scott to act like a 3-year-old around me.

I began with all the books that i have pushed into every nook and cranny of this blasted apartment, piled on every loaded shelf, and hanging out with my dry goods. Thankfully, I was able to beg boxes off some businesses around me, so I had plenty of stack room. I had cleaned the books off of the shelves in the living room, gotten the random stacks from the depths of my closet, and was working in the guest room/Scott’s office when Volume 1 of Sherlock Holmes Complete Collection fell from the top shelf and hit me on the back of the head. Of course many cuss words were said and the book was chucked across the apartment, which scared the dogs into hiding in the bedroom. I felt around for serious damage and stopped drinking, but I must say that I am way more efficient while drinking.

Now, I just feel all fuzzy but with a headache. I texted Scott when it happened, and he’s been texting checkups every thirty minutes, warning me that if I don’t reply than he’s calling 911. He’s a keeper alright.

Well, Scott just got home. Said his buddies were driving south to go to Pink Pony (it’s a strip club), and he told them that he would rather “play doctor” with me instead. He said it to them in a very different way to save face, but I know for a fact that my old man hates staying out past midnight, unless we’re on vacation or at a party. I would so make him appreciate coming home early with a little stripping of my own, but my head is killing me. We’re going to stay up until I sober up enough the correctly assess my head injury, and then we’re taking a trip to the doctor. He demanded it even though I told him it wasn’t that bad.

To keep ourselves awake, he’s going to finish packing my books while I man the database. You must check out BookDB. It’s free and awesome. I used something a bit different in the store, but for my personal collection, it’s better than perfect.

I need more ice, stat!