No one knows how to be a good daughter better than a gay son.

That's why I come to Uno's for my pizza. I walk in and my regular waitress spots me, grabs the menu from the host, saying, "Give her to me!" and sits me down. I mention it was a long work day and she asks if I'd like a glass or the bottle. I know she's a little bit serious and she knows I know and that's why I like her.

And she calls me "Ladybug."

I haven't been here since Christmas so I can't remember her name because that was the time I asked. It's something really unmatched to her personality...she's got a punkish no-frills vibe going, but her name is Sunshine or Summer or something. Dang. Maybe with a little wine it will come back to me the way my Japanese and Italian does.

Plus I know she'll leave me alone until I want more wine or until I'm ready for cheeeeeeeeeese. Oh, I mean pizza.

And that's why even though there's a little ice still on the roads and I'm wearing death heels, I still decided to stop off to be fed.

But then I'm going home to curl up with (more) wine and Project Runway. (Just season 1.) Because Austin is almost too obvious to root for at this point...but I don't want to see him get ditched because he's such a delicate flower. And that little bitch with the cropped hair has to go. I didn't use to mind her. Conversely, I've mellowed considerably on the Jesus-guy...tensions are high! I'm there!