five thousand shades of blue
Monday, February 19, 2001
Boy, it will be nice to have weekends again. I spent Friday night indulging in
. Of course, I did bring home the black paint to paint some chairs at home, but being notoriously bad at tightening lids on things, the black paint emptied out into the main section of my purse. Yes, I know, one stupid thing after another... this was totally preventable and totally my own fault. I'm a moron. I spent about 20 minutes rinsing things clean of black paint -- credit cards, wallet, pocket notebook (which was tossed out as a lost cause), Cinnamon Altoids (ditto -- cinnamon candies, water and black paint don't mix). On the positive side, I reverted to using an old purse of mine, with much less stuff in it, and I'm really liking not carrying around a briefcase full of stuff everywhere I go. It's kind of liberating.
Saturday saw me spending long hours on my hands and knees getting intimate with café chairs. They look spiffy now, though: maroon seats, black painted wood, with antique gold (paint) decoration. Also spent many a long hour laying peel-and-stick vinyl flooring, surely the greatest invention since sliced bread. All told we were here on Saturday for about... 11 hours. Tiring. By the end we were so hungry we were joking that the cats better hide when we get home. A couple of very-bad-for-us double cheeseburgers later, we felt much better. This is why I could never be a vegetarian -- those who are, rock on. There are just times in my life when the need for red meat of some variety overrides all rational thought.
Ah, Sunday. Let me tell you that the smell of floor wax (useful for filling the miniscule cracks between the aforementioned vinyl floor) and varethane is enough to make one climb the walls. Then, adventures with a floor buffer -- which will forever be referred to as the mechanical bull, since before we figured out that there was a handle release to angle the handles down, the thing was flying all over the place uncontrollably. Countdown to actually moving is coming closer, and the illusions I hold about having the free time that I do are about to be blown away like wisps of smoke.
I did get to go to the Asian Celebration for about an hour and a half on Sunday though. Watched a demonstration on Mongolian hot pot but was discouraged by the fact that I had to correct the chefs about the heat source (the Mongols did not use charcoal, nor was the 'wood shortage' due to overstripping the land of trees -- they used dried horse dung as fuel because the steppes
have no trees to speak of...). I digress. I got some pad thai, bought a calligraphed Chinese saying to hang on the wall of the café (it reads, "May your profits increase a thousand fold"), and walked around admiring the bonsai trees, pottery and artwork. It was short, sweet, and utterly necessary for me to go.
Kewl.
Erin digs my musical tastes. And I know exactly what you mean, E.
is
this just not enough…?
