Busy busy busy
Busy weekend, figuring out how to fit a three-person wardrobe (two for her, one for me) in a one person bedroom. That involved, sadly, a second trip in a week to Ikea. But I did get a nice 75 cent hot dog, topped with lingenberries.
This time, though, we made it through in under 30 minutes, which was amazing considering it takes about that long just to walk straight through the place.
That was Saturday morning. The rest of the day I spent rubbing down old dresser drawers with soap (helps them run smoother). Saturday night we ended up seeing Peter, Paul and Mary at the Fitzgerald. The ghost of Garrison must have been in the house, cause Peter (who’s 66, but still spritely) talked almost as much as he played. When he did sing it was great, although he sounded a little bit like a 49-year-old woman. But maybe that was because my mom was sitting next to me, belting out “Leaving on a Jet Plane” like it was an aria from Rigoletto.
You have to understand though, when she was my age she wanted nothing more than to sing with Peter Yarrow and Paul Stookey. So even though we were in the second balcony, about 150 feet away, this was like a dream come true for her. During “Puff the Magic Dragon,” when he invited all the parents with young children to join him on stage, she was pressuring my brother to go:
“Let’s go let’s go let’s go let’s go!”
“Mom, I’m twelve.”
“What?! No you’re not. Come on, he’s going to start without us.”
In the end they didn’t go, which was probably OK, since halfway through the song Peter started off on one of those extended side-stories where the song stops but he keeps strumming the guitar faintly like it would die if he didn’t.
All in all, it was a great show. A little bit like a singing Woody Allen, but less neurotic.
My whole life has changed now that there’s a female living with me. Sunday, for the first time in two years, I went grocery shopping. Or, rather, she went grocery shopping, I just went walking around in a grocery store with my girlfriend.
Either way, now the fridge is well-stocked with $150 dollars worth of food. In two weeks it will be gone. Which just proves my point about grocery-shopping: not worth it. The stuff just disappears. $150 down the drain (no, really, ’cause you eat it and then you digest it and… uh, well…).
If I was going to spend that much money on sustenance, I’d buy a renewable resource, like chickens. You buy 150 bucks worth of food and it’s gone, poof. You buy 150 bucks of chickens and your’e set for years to come. Chickens reproduce.
Well, I guess you’d need one boy-chicken. Set him up with a little harem in the basement.
Man, that’d be the life. Eatin’ like kings every day. Chicken-breast sandwhiches. Eggs for breakfast. Fresh chicken-milk. Everything.
And don’t worry about feeding them, we’ve got plenty of garbage. And if that runs out there’s always junk mail.