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( Tuesday, Jul. 08, 2003 10:26 am ) >Ha ha! Only God knows the name of that dance! Whoa, another entry! Today is my day off and I'm currently pondering my options for the afternoon. That is, I'm trying to think of something to do which is not 1. make the only thing I have left to eat (alfredo noodles and a can of baked beans--this sounds disgusting, I know, but I bought them in the hopes of recreating a lunch my Grandma used to make me all the time when I stayed with her two summers ago: Kraft macaroni & cheese with ketchup and Campbell's baked beans. That also sounds disgusting, but no, it was old school and delicious) 2. watch A Wedding Story and 3. watch old MST3K in the air conditioning. This would be lame. I am going out with Juney and Call tonight, dragging them both to a documentary that they'll both hate. But the afternoon is wiiiiiide open. Yesterday I bought myself an ice cream cone for dinner. Why? Because I can. I happen to work in what appears to be the Ice Cream Cone District, with no fewer than 3 places within a block of the bookstore. It's great. I've been to them all. Last night I visited the remaining one I hadn't been to yet and was thrilled to find that it had the most delicious smell ever. I almost told the counter girl how great it smelled, how my nostrils were so pleased, but I didn't because it didn't smell like chocolate or sugar or anything; it smelled like musty basement/wet wood, which is my favorite scent of all time. It is my opiate, and I inhale deeply. I think maybe I already told you this, but my top pleasure of all time is looking out the windows of a moving vehicle. I never wanted the school bus ride to end. The top thing I could imagine would be sitting in a car driving aimlessly all over a big city, like New York all day long, especially if there was good music on the radio. Crazy man asked me out at work the other day. He did seem slightly normal for a minute, but then he started asking me to look up various books about aliens, and muttering in a mad way. It's a good thing that I am with Call, because it's only the mental boys who like me. P.S. Also spent the rest of my time reading the best book ever, One! Hundred! Demons! by Lynda Barry. |
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