We were supposed to go to a party tonight, but the streets are slick with frozen rain, so it looks like we’re going to stay here at home with these jerks.* That’s the adult thing to do, I think, get drunk on our own couch instead of risking life and limb for the sake of being social. There will be other parties.
*Please note how the relationship between the cat and dog, who not so long ago fought like…well, cats and dogs, has progressed. Currently, they are spooning like lovers. Will wonders never cease?
Oh hey I forgot that PhotoBooth takes funny pictures.
I came up with a new one: “Cony! Coni! Coné!”
I should note that the cone is only funny because she doesn’t mind it very much. If she were miserable we wouldn’t be laughing (as much).
Coney Island.
I think it makes her face look like a sweet little flower.
I didn’t even know such extreme laziness existed in nature until I met these two.
[Flash 9 is required to listen to audio.]
This is what it sounds like when Joe tickles the dog. I know that sounds like a euphamism, but it’s not.
“Oh, hey, just hanging out on the dog’s bed. No big deal.”
We did all the food shopping yesterday, which means that today is hibernation day, build a fire and never go outside day. I have work to do later, but unfortunately/fortunately the people I work with aren’t ready yet, which means I get to sit on the couch with a book and a cup of tea until sometime this aftrnoon.
Bob Dylan
Seeing Bob Dylan tonight was surreal. One minute I’m sitting in a basketball arena, drunk on pear cider and reading a book, and the next minute the room has gone dark and Bob Dylan and his band are suddenly on stage, playing a song I don’t recognize. No opening act; when you’re Bob Dylan, the crowd is already good and warm.
The acoustics were terrible—it was a basketball arena after all—but he was great. He sang a rousing version of “Ballad of a Thin Man,” and often sounded like Tom Waits covering Bob Dylan songs instead of Bob Dylan himself.
We returned home to find that I had left the side door wide open. Amazingly, our animals and all of our belongings were still inside, and no squirrels or neighborhood dogs or murderers awaited us. Our dog wouldn’t have noticed that the door was open—she never goes into the room it opens from—but the cat uses that room all day, so I was amazed (and very, very, relieved) to find him still in our house. Later I picked him up and noticed that there was dirt all over his paws, dirt that smelled of our side yard. He did go outside, but for whatever reason he chose his life with us instead of all that is out there.
I can’t tell you how happy that makes me.
