It's alright to cry, the night is still young.

I walked into oblivion Wednesday.

I thought that it'd be a great idea to cook up my mom's famous spaghetti for Janet, and as easy as it sounds, you can't play around with strings in olive oil with an open flame. This was supposed to be our romantic getaway.. a chance to take a breath of fresh air in a clouded week. It was Valentine's day, and instead of chocolate and roses, Janet got a house fire.

The first thing that I decided to do (the genius that I am), was grab my beer from the counter. I yelled at Janet who was in the other room and pushed her outside. I unplugged her new television and dragged it outside with me as the kitchen erupted in flames. I went back in for a second load, which included my favorite tablecloth, a few great Paul Simon albums and the chips that were sitting on the living room table.

Somewhere in the mix, I decided that my cell phone was weighing me down, so I left it inside the inferno. I gave Janet a nod of approval before I realized that it was my damned Spaghetti alla Carbonara that was burning down her house. I reached in my pocket for my phone to call the fire department, but then realized that i had lost it in the blaze. Crap.

I really didn't understand Janet when she told me that she didn't want me to call her anymore. And I was doing so well!