The baby pulled out my old Blind Melon cassette from the CD cabinet. Now I'm looking at it and thinking, “I bet the Bee Girl is a crackhead now.” Sigh…1992. Speaking of which, I bought the boyfriend one of his birthday presents the other day: tickets to see the Red Hot Chili Peppers in September. Eeek! It's too bad that they aren't coming sooner. Their last album is the absolute perfect summer album. But, I guess September is summery enough.
Speaking of No Rain, it is another beeyuteeful day in my neighborhood. I want to take a walk but I have to wait for some window people to get here and measure the windows. (We're in desparate need of new ones.) They've taken a cable company attitude about the whole affair and informed me that they will be here “some time between 11 and 2.” That, of course, means that they'll come at 1:58, just in time to disturb the baby from his nap and wreck any chances of a nice walk today. Ergh. Need iced latte. Must have iced latte. *stabs eye with fork*
Yesterday, after our close brush with road pancakedom, I was a little terrified of crossing the street. In order to put it off, the baby and I went to watch the demolition at St. Francis like a bunch of townies. It was kind of entertaining, although I don't know how people can sit there all day and watch it like many folks do. My mom, in the spirit of the Great Blackout (as it's apparently being called now), keeps comparing the demolition to 9/11. Ugh. Again, except for the absence of a couple of hijacked planes, thousands of dead people, widespread panic, and some international terrorist organizations, IT'S JUST LIKE 9/11.
Oh, blast, I also have to go to the bank to deposit some money that the boyfriend gave me to cover my eBay seller fees. He put some records and his 909 up for auction and they've finally sold. Hurray! Window people, get here now!
I took a fantastic shower this morning. Lately, I've been having a lot of trouble squeezing in a shower on a daily basis. So that makes the showers that I do take that much more invigorating. I used this homemade soap that my mother bought for me that's scented like Nag Champa. So now I kind of smell like I've been hanging out with Digital Jesus. (Don't worry if you don't know who I'm talking about. I think only three people on my friends list will get that.)
Well, I should probably get some work done. I finally sent in my PG article (again) yesterday and the guy said that he would get back to me soon. pant pant. I'm just glad to be done with it. I feel like I've been working on it for two months…Oh, wait, I have been working on it for two months.