I’ll have to write more about the Rob Crow show when I get up tomorrow (today; this was taken at 1 or 2 a.m.). I’m way too drunk right now. I’m so drunk I wrote all kinds of shit on myself while waiting for the bartender to ring me up. What did I write? Your guess is as good as mine. Lots of stars, though — a sign I’m in good spirits. Project 365
I just got back from a walk to Burke’s to return the book I got for my dad’s birthday, which — as I suspected — he already owned. That little transaction will help out with the budget situation this week, but it means that I have to keep hunting for something the man doesn’t already own. Which is fricking impossible; this makes at least the third or fourth time I’ve bought him something he already…
My mom with a beached pink whale in 2005. Today is my mom’s 51st birthday. I’m not sure if she’s at the point yet where she’s reluctant to tell people her age, but I hope not; I think she should be proud of her years and her experiences and her wisdom. She has always been reluctant to color the grey in her hair, and for a long time (okay, like, three years when I was…
I went to bed at a whoppingly early 12:30, and here it is, nearly three hours later, and I’m up and about, pretty much wide awake. Not sure what woke me. I think it may have been a train. The windows are open, so it’s a little louder than usual out there. Blaaaaaah. Too late for Nyquil or Benadryl, warm milk sounds disgusting (and I’m out of milk anyway), reading does the opposite of put…
• I burnt the ever-loving shit out of my left thumb and forefinger today, getting Texas Toast out of the oven with what are, apparently, completely decorative pot-holders. It has taken me, like, fifteen minutes to type this many letters. • My neighbor has three big dogs living in her apartment. It’s sweet in theory, but really annoying in practice. • Perfect pre-spring sipping wine: Viognier. Mmm, apples and honeysuckle. • I’ve spent more time…
Days like today were made for tank tops, wet hair, Billie Holiday, a freshly swept floor, the hum of lawnmowers, the smell of cut grass, the taste of orange juice, and the thought of hope tucked somewhere just beneath the heart.
(click to biggie size) Better than the Thunderstick Pro, better than the Jack LaLane Powerjuicer, better than any ol’ stupid Ronco shit: THE AEROGARDEN. Look at this thing. The hosts are so completely excited about the prospect of growing tiny tomatoes and lettuce and take a look at this time-lapse footage and all you need is water and nutrient pills administered when prompted by the digital readout and don’t forget the pre-planted seedling pod that…
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