rock star

Waited around for a call that never came.
Ate two pear tarts.
Bought some stuff.*
Went home.
Re-grouted my bath tiles.
Ate a mackerel sandwich.
Watched Elizabeth: the Golden Age.
It sucked.
Passed out on the couch.

This is my, as he put it "rock-star lifestyle." Indeed.


*I saw David Bowie (I'm almost positive it was him!) at C.O. Bigelow checking out the Acqua di Parma (Colonia) products which, as it turns out is one of my scents. Does it reassure you to know that David Bowie smells nice?

golden state

On a whim, we decided to have our palms read at the psychic next to this bar. It was hard to concentrate because my reader, Diane, had some crazy crooked teeth and I couldn't stop staring. She told me that I was deeply unsettled, waited for me to confirm this fact. Duh. She asked me what was in California. I asked if it was a rhetorical question. She asked if I had family there. I said no. Nevetheless, she told me, I was destined to move to California in eight months (give or take).

"Hey, me too!" said Jub re the California thing after having received a separate reading by Diane's mom in the other room. "She said I was going to move there or Miami."