margin of error

berta and i went to la salles last night to get our beer on (but we did finally walk through the market!) :) we played pool and boy was i terrible. pool is one of those games where you are either on or off. berta was on and made a few great shots *throws poof of confetti* hooray for berta! jared met us out as well... it was fun watching them play -- they are both hustlers.

after that, jared and i went to the bear to meet up with eric. i stayed for one beer and then called it a night (but did try to get the boy to come home with me -- didn't work!)... i hung out with my brother (who was in town, but didn't want to go out) and went to bed. i got a call from a drunk eric around 1:15 am saying he was coming over (i'm getting to the point of this story, i promise!) he comes in the door and says "honey, there were some hot chicks at the bar but i knew what i was coming home to. you are a smidge better than any of them. maybe even a spoonful." (and yes, i did memorized what he said) wtf does that mean? depending on what type of instrument was used (yes, i'm a graduate student!) i would think i was more than a smidge (even a spoonful) better than a girl that's just "hot". sheesh. what ever.