[for Monday, Nov. 19] It only took me three years, but I finally made it to a Grizzlies game tonight. We bought the $5 nosebleed tickets (next cheapest were $18 apiece … um, as if) and threw a grappling hook over a beam and climbed our way all the way to the top of the Forum. Even the crappy seats aren’t all that bad, though. The Forum isn’t that huge. And yet, they can’t fill…
[for Sunday, Nov. 18] My pitiful little point-and-shoot can no longer focus in any situation that offers less than supernova-strength light. I wonder how long it will continue to even function at all. Project 365
[for Friday, Nov. 16] Ooooh, Nov. 16 almost went down in infamy as the day I blew Project 365! My little digital camera followed me around today with no memory card. Oops. Luckily I was armed with the craphone and no sense of artistic decency, so here ya go. A collar. Does it make it more interesting to know that the collared shirt was at one time my grandfather’s? Project 365
Going to Nashville and back in less than 24 hours is tedious business. Especially in heavy rain, which kept falling and falling yesterday once I hit Middle Tennessee. I became envious of all the assholes who plowed ahead in the grey wetness at 70 mph while my little shitmobile felt much safer and much more stable cruising at 50. (I have a serious, serious fear of hydroplaning.) Of course, my envy subsided when I passed…
[for Wednesday, Nov. 14] Well, I suppose it was bound to happen at some point: My first canceled concert. Too bad it came as a result of my beloved Regina Spektor collapsing during sound check. The representative who broke the news to the audience said that she wanted to perform, but the doctors wouldn’t let her. So we were sent on our merry way. The whole night wasn’t a bust, of course, since I got…
[for Tuesday, Nov. 13] Well, technically she has a head. It’s just not on her. My sister gave me this several years ago when I was confirmed. The poor thing got broken the last time I moved. It’s high time I get some super glue, I think. Project 365
FearlessVK and I met up today at the Brooks to check out the Pissarro exhibit, which we made our way through diligently and dutifully, paying homage and respect to the father of Impressionism and his dappled landscapes. Fearless isn’t the biggest fan of Impressionism, largely because of the ubiquity of its style throughout bland hotel rooms and flowery foyers all over the world. I’m a little more warm toward the style — even if I’m…
And to think I could have just let nature take its course and then turned a profit on the bounty of kittens that would have followed. I know, I know. The world does not need more inbred kittens, no matter how cute they are. So these two smell like the vet clinic now. That’s weird. But they’re acting fine and not shunning me at all. Jack’s filling the gaping void left in his manhood with…
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