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� Saturday, Oct. 09, 2004 �
Ah, the twists and turns of fate. You really have to just give in and go with the flow sometimes. You have to trust that the universe will make sense eventually.
Yesterday was an exercise in zen neutrality, with a vengeance.
It started with waking up early-ish for a day off after a big work day(people came to eat! Finally--it was a little slow in the middle but a great finish!)(and then the COCK-tails and rawk and conversation, which made me feel SOOOO GOOOD at the end of the night) I woke up and was craving a ham egg and cheese breakfast sandwich. I had convinced myself to walk to the panera bread at the end of my street to get one, and then I realized that I could walk to the grocery store and get INGREDIENTS and have ham egg and cheese breakfast sandwiches for several days. So that's what I did, only I ended up making a quesadilla instead of a sandwich. It was yummy, and I drank coffee and read the City Paper and had a nice calm morning. My HG showed up and we batted around the idea of going to the laundrymat, but instead opted for going to the thrift store to look for sweaters. So we loaded the laundry into the truck(just in case) and headed out. On the way I got my mail, which contained NOT the check I have been expecting for two weeks but instead a notice from the IRS. It's not exactly an audit, but rather a request to change my tax return from 2002 in order to charge me $500 more dollars. I'm incredulous, but I'm not going to think about it until Monday when I will spend the day searching for my tax forms and see if I can figure out how exactly they think I made a $500 mistake. I am, as I said, incredulous.
So we forgot about it and got in the truck and got some gas and soda pop and headed out to the thrift store in the beautiful sun with the radio crankin classic rock. Lovely. I was sort of underwhelmed with the Kennywood RW&B, but I did find a pair of birkenstock sandals with brand new soles for $5.00, and a nice pair of stripey pants. My HG scored big with jeans and a camping style percolator pot and a couple of 45s and an unopened screener copy of Dr. Caligari, the version made by the same people who made Cafe Flesh. (note--Dr Caligari is not porn, but it is definitely one of the weirdest/coolest things I have ever seen. On a par with The Forbidden Zone, but better sets) We decided to move on to the American Thrift, where life took a decided upswing. I found a boxset of the White Mountains trilogy by John Cristopher, some of my favorite young adult novels which are totally out of print. Then, I found a cassette copy of Appetite for Destruction. Then, I found an unopened copy of Ebn-Ozn's ALBUM.(I seriously didn't even know such a thing existed!) Then, three of four nice serviceable cotton sweaters, including a big blue cardigan. Then, a very perfect pair of Colorado shoes which will make my kitchen life comfortable again. Also, a small galss bowl for holding salt over my stove. HG got some more jeans and another 45 and we got out of for less than $21. Sweet. We debated about dinner but finally decided to live our lives like we're on vacation(thanks, Paul Stanley!) and go get steaks on the credit card. We didn't want to brave the Waterfront, and Applebee's was packed, so we were making out way out of Edgewood when we got pulled over by the fuzz for making an illegal turn on a red light. The citation when we finally got it said "failure to obey a steady red light" which it was very clearly NOT. Steady. It was turning, and we probably should NOT have chanced it, but there was no one coming and it was a safe intersection. But alas. The fine itself is $25. However, when you add up all the mysteriously initialed "costs"(none of which are explained on the citation) the total ticket came to $125. WTF!?!?!
This put a damper on our evening. We decided to just go home and eat cheap pasta, but I got a second wind and flew into the Giant Eagle for steaks and broccoli to have a nice dinner anyways. We watched most of the movie and then decided to get ourselves out of the funk by going to the Mr Nice Guy show. We got a good parking spot, and the snake handler was outfront trying to entice people in with the snake. It was cool. The show was very sparsely attended, which was depressing, especially in the fact that the people who were there were so totally fucked up that I was too scared to go to the front. But we sat at a nice table in back and enjoyed the show immensely. The guitar player introduced himself to me and I had a nice chat with him. They did a GREAT job--the music was especially fine, the singer did a really good job of sounding like Alice most of the time, but it was clear that he is a good singer and sometimes had a hard time not singing better than Alice does. They played a lot of unexpected stuff ("Clones", "Muscle of Love", "Guilty", and many others) and they did a really great job of staging the best show they could with the snake and the top hat and the canes and crutches and swords and riding crops and busting a pillow on the stage. They had a couple of exotic dancers who paraded around on stage in tiny costumes and that was fun too, although the stage was really a little too small for much choreography. The young guitar player was doing his best Ryan Roxie imitation for which I was eternally grateful, but again, there wasn't much room for him to run and jump around like my rockstarboyfriend would. All in all, I'm extremely glad we went and it did a lot to improve the mood.
This morning we woke up for the shows, had biscuits and gravy, and then went back to bed. Just now yawning and stretching and figuring out what to do. The laundry beckons, as does the messy livingroom.
Tonight I'll go to the Quiet Storm to see Fangs of the Panda even though none of those FotP boys have managed to get their asses to the Indian Feast. I'll take that opportunity to chastise them. And then rock out.
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