Well I'm back in Apartment 12, and my still-unnamed car was untouched by vandals or St. Lunatics, so everyone who bet lost. That's what you get for succumbing to the demon-child that is unsanctioned gambling.

Tonight Rachel is making dinner, so I can do productive things like post and shop online for a new computer rather than cook. Judging from the aromas that are making their way into my room, it promises to be tasty, and the recipe is 2 pages long, which puts it way out of my own range of "insert chicken into oven, pour on Mrs. Dash" style of cooking.