Today, the heat index has been 120˚F. You may kill me. If the heat doesn't first.

In order to escape, I did the only sane thing I could in the circumstances; I went shopping. I always feel a little guilty when I go on my epic clothes shops on holiday, coming out with huge bags of stuff, but as I seen to have inherited the sale gene from my mother, I never buy anything unless it's on the sale rack (hurrah for JC Penney and its seemingly perpetual sale!), and stay away from the stupidly expensive stores. So I've done all my clothes shopping, unless I see something nice at Club Nova (and yes, new socks!).

But anyway, yes, it's hot. It's been a fun couple of days; I was Ian-napped on Sunday night, heading out to watch Charlie & The Chocolate Factory, before going to Durham to eat at the goooooooodness that is Francesca's in Durham. We then lost Hannah, but continued on our quest to find karaoke. Thankfully, for all concerned, we failed, although we did have an interesting meeting with a security guard who: mistook Laura for a boy, was very concerned about licensing laws, and who warned us all about attacks that had taken place recently, but reassuring the girls that because I was there, they'd probably be okay (it was all I could do to not burst out laughing).

Then we went to Hell.

Hell, of course, being a bar in Chapel Hill. Ho ho ho. Had you going there for a moment. Okay, perhaps not. I discovered that I suck at air hockey, and treated the bar to Joy Division and The Buzzcocks. Because I'm not predictable or anything.

Yesterday! Lemurs! Apple Store! Another Apple Store but with apples you can eat! Swimming! A knife in a tree! Spider-webs! The Incredibles! And enough Chinese food to last a week, it seems…