8:49 a.m.I didn't go to the gym this morning. I woke up a little before 4:30 (I'd got to sleep at a little after 10) and talked myself into believing it wasn't enough. I thought, If I can lie here for half an hour without going to sleep, that'll be my sign.
Sign for what? Needless to say, I fell back asleep in that half hour and finally got out of bed at 7. Oh, well, Maybe it is the weather. It wasn't that cold in bed, and it's witch's tit cold outside. --Well, maybe slightly warmer than a witch's tit.
I cut open some butternut squashes and chopped onion, celery, apple, parsley, walnuts, bread and raisins and stuffed the squash cavaties with that and some wheat germ and olive oil.
I guess this is cleaning day. R just left with Jesse for the park and in my mind I'm thinking, What should I do, turn on the TV? Get online? But, no, I should clean. It won't be such an all-day affair if I do it every week.
I start cleaning LW's house next week (to pay her back for the money she loaned me last month). I'll be able to do that in the middle of the week, so it won't interfere with my Fridays. I guess I'm not cleaning the S's house anymore. I thought about sending them a card, just in case they lost my phone number and are looking for me, but then I realized yesterday that they could find me on the East Nashville list serv if they wanted to, the same way they found me in the first place. I'm not on the list serv - I never was; CB told me about the listing, and I'm sure she or R or somebody else would tell me if the S's were looking for me there.
Squash alarm is going off; gotta uncover and cook 15 minutes.
9:28 p.m.
Drunk. Waiting for my soup to cool so I can puree it. LW bought me a margarita at La Hacienda. 45 ounces! I bought myself huevos rancheros and then came home and walked a brisk 20 minutes with Jesse and then wrestled with her in the front yard. I asked LW at work if she'd share her margarita with me (knowing that she'd probably buy me one) and she said, "Sure!" The waitress put the margarita on my tab and I didn't notnice until I was writing in a $3 tip for the $14 meal. What? The man behind the register asked me if there was any way I could get cash from her for the drink. Aw jeez, how embarrassing. "Remember that drink you bought me? Well, they put it on my tab, so can you give me cash for it?"
The soup will be good. It's a butternut squash soup I'm kind of making up/altering from a recipe for canned pumpkin soup.
11:03 p.m.
I can't even see the clock from here.
The soup is delicious.
I'm a fast walker.
I smell like cigarette smoke.
I went to Lipstick Lounge with LW. She paid my way in so I bought us beers. Ronda & Jonda are great; a real Las Vegas small bar act. What a story that would make! The lead guitar is an Asian guy, the keyboard and additional vocalist looks like a big-breasted tranny with hair that looks like she's been going in for chemotherapy. The woman who plays bass looks like a boy I went to junior high and high school with, my best friend for a while; Burl Ives' great nephew.
11:15
Remember when you read back over this: I'm usually pretty stoned or drunk (or both) when I write in here.
Sign for what? Needless to say, I fell back asleep in that half hour and finally got out of bed at 7. Oh, well, Maybe it is the weather. It wasn't that cold in bed, and it's witch's tit cold outside. --Well, maybe slightly warmer than a witch's tit.
I cut open some butternut squashes and chopped onion, celery, apple, parsley, walnuts, bread and raisins and stuffed the squash cavaties with that and some wheat germ and olive oil.
I guess this is cleaning day. R just left with Jesse for the park and in my mind I'm thinking, What should I do, turn on the TV? Get online? But, no, I should clean. It won't be such an all-day affair if I do it every week.
I start cleaning LW's house next week (to pay her back for the money she loaned me last month). I'll be able to do that in the middle of the week, so it won't interfere with my Fridays. I guess I'm not cleaning the S's house anymore. I thought about sending them a card, just in case they lost my phone number and are looking for me, but then I realized yesterday that they could find me on the East Nashville list serv if they wanted to, the same way they found me in the first place. I'm not on the list serv - I never was; CB told me about the listing, and I'm sure she or R or somebody else would tell me if the S's were looking for me there.
Squash alarm is going off; gotta uncover and cook 15 minutes.
9:28 p.m.
Drunk. Waiting for my soup to cool so I can puree it. LW bought me a margarita at La Hacienda. 45 ounces! I bought myself huevos rancheros and then came home and walked a brisk 20 minutes with Jesse and then wrestled with her in the front yard. I asked LW at work if she'd share her margarita with me (knowing that she'd probably buy me one) and she said, "Sure!" The waitress put the margarita on my tab and I didn't notnice until I was writing in a $3 tip for the $14 meal. What? The man behind the register asked me if there was any way I could get cash from her for the drink. Aw jeez, how embarrassing. "Remember that drink you bought me? Well, they put it on my tab, so can you give me cash for it?"
The soup will be good. It's a butternut squash soup I'm kind of making up/altering from a recipe for canned pumpkin soup.
11:03 p.m.
I can't even see the clock from here.
The soup is delicious.
I'm a fast walker.
I smell like cigarette smoke.
I went to Lipstick Lounge with LW. She paid my way in so I bought us beers. Ronda & Jonda are great; a real Las Vegas small bar act. What a story that would make! The lead guitar is an Asian guy, the keyboard and additional vocalist looks like a big-breasted tranny with hair that looks like she's been going in for chemotherapy. The woman who plays bass looks like a boy I went to junior high and high school with, my best friend for a while; Burl Ives' great nephew.
11:15
Remember when you read back over this: I'm usually pretty stoned or drunk (or both) when I write in here.
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