Ms. Saint descended upon Memphis Saturday evening to check out the debut Harmony Brothers performance (post on that forthcoming), so I offered her my couch for the night, and we spent the wee hours sipping cheap-ass pinot noir and talking about ghosts and all sorts of unsettling things. (She thinks there’s some non-threatening residue in my kitchen, and not just the kind that has accumulated from my never cleaning the damn room.) [interlude to complain…
[for July 6] Forgot my real camera. Forgot to take a real picture. So here’s a lovely crapphone view of my desk at work. I’ll let you guess what’s going on in that picture on my computer. See, Lesley had to come into town and distract me with lunch at the Pizza Cafe (which I lurve despite my general wishy-washiness toward pizza) and tales of her mother and her mother’s crazy cats; crazy garden-destroying wildlife;…
Yeesh, how long has it been since I went more than a day or so without posting? I’ve actually been busy the past few days. And right now I’m having some trouble focusing. Not sure why. I’ve felt like crap since about 8 o’clock. My body powered down and I was just useless. I kind of deflated on Phil’s couch and watched Futurama for two hours. I mean, it’s not a bad way to spend…
The cats have beaten the crap out of me today. After the post about sleep this morning, I managed to get back to bed for an additional hour of sleep, which we all know is kind of like subtracting three hours from your overall total, because it’s just so pointless. Being on the computer is now officially a treacherous task to undertake, since the cats apparently think that if I am sitting in the chair,…
Ratatouille — No shocker there. I’m a Brad Bird nerd (I love The Iron Giant) and every day I wish I worked for Pixar. Ratatouille isn’t a kid’s movie, really (I dragged my nephews to it, along with my mom, sister, and grandmother), but it’s got enough neat stuff to look and laugh at to keep kids entertained. It’s really meant for an older, artier crowd, one that includes foodies and cork dorks. I love…
[for July 4] A serendipitous scheduling coincidence let me off work last night at around 9, which meant I had just enough time to get downtown to catch the post-Redbirds fireworks show from atop the Peabody Place parking garage (Phil’s idea). It was as entertaining as pyrotechnics can be — which is to say very entertaining — but I am a moron and spent the entire time fantasizing about the nearest bathroom. Project 365
Kittens are, as everyone knows, insane. Which means that my nights and mornings have gotten all jumbled these past few weeks as the critters and I have tried to hammer out a sleep schedule that accommodates my work schedule and their instincts to get up at the ass crack of dawn and stampede around the apartment, ripping things off the walls. Mother Nature never compromises, so usually here’s what happens when I get off work…
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