"What no wife of a writer understands is that a writer is working when he's staring out the window." -- Burton Rascoe
Ain't that the truth, Burty, ain't that the truth. Fuck if I can remember what I did this weekend... I have a vague recollection of my sister Jane trying to "out-drama" me on Friday morning (she won the battle, but the war wages on). Then I got to meet with Ollie for some inspiration and shit. As soon as I get some of my weekly stuff knocked out I'm gonna hop on the bigger projects, those giant clouds that have been hovering over me, waiting to be noticed and dealt with. FINE! JESUS, let me breathe for a second and I'll get to you! Whew! It's my own damn fault, I'd rather stare out the window and read, suck in inspiration and experience, than sit down and do what needs to be done.
But now it is time to do just that.
Let's see, Saturday there was sake, and lots of it. So much, that we still have enough to get at least four sumo wrestlers shit-faced. Word to the wise, though -- don't mix sake with bourbon, cocktails, and scotch. Seriously. Ask M.s. if you don't believe me, go on, ask him. But don't tell him why, he's pissed that I've been blabbering about his impressive achievement in inebriation two nights ago. Hee hee.
You're not supposed to eat sushi with sake, you know, something about pasta and bread, same deal, rice wine and rice is redundant. But it still works. Not like I would know, I don't really care for sake, so I just nibbled on all the sushi and sucked on a few chocolate martinis. Right.
Sunday! Farmer's Market, nursing my darling, sick, dehydrated lover back to life, and a cup of tea with Dad. Speaking of tea, speaking of the Urban Grind -- an open note to you people who work there: Would it fucking KILL you to SMILE? Maybe say hello and thank you and have a nice day? WOULD IT? Are you TRYING to drive me to Starbucks!? God DAMN, I go there almost every day and RARELY do I get a return smile. No, I get clipped, snarky, annoyed, "why are you bothering me with your order" types of attitude, despite my smiles and generous tips, despite my obvious repeat business. All I'm saying is, a little nice never hurt anyone. But a lot of this shit will.
But I digress. It was great to see Dad. The day before, I got to hang out with Mom for a bit, and that too was wonderful. I went down to her house, where children run wild, and spent some time with her and the kids. So I guess I remember what I did this weekend after all. In bits and pieces.
Such is life.