January 13th, 2008

Weekends Are for Wonderful

I have to say that the Free Biscuit performances Friday night were nothing short of astounding! To say nothing of the fact that Steph and Mark built a *stage* with *footlights* in their living room. To say nothing of the delicious food, the collapsable flying disk printed with sex-ed websites that Matthew brought me, to say nothing of the absolutely brilliant performances. Oh, wait, I already did say something about that. For my own part, I managed not to fall off the aforementioned stage, forget (m)any lines or, you know, die, which if you are one of those unlucky enough to have listened to much of the fretting I was doing about this performance, seemed like a possibility for a while. I’m really sorry about all that fretting, guys–I’m pleased to say that not only was it not horrible, I’m positively delighted I didn’t fake a stroke in order to stay home (also a possibility at one point).

The wonders slowed down slightly yesterday, consisting mainly of the discovery that Penny is right about whipped cream being better than CoolWhip, and that strawberry shortcake can (sorta) be created in January, if all concerned have enough patience and active imaginations. Also the joyous revelation that a first draft of a story that I thought might never be done is in fact nearly done. The thing about me and my dire predictions is that I have such a wide margin in which to be pleasantly surprised.

More pleasant surprises: gentle giants of my university years, the band Pigeon Hole has seemed defunct of late (hence the lack of hyperlink there), have a four-song artist page on CBC3 (search the song “Similar Promises”). This is handy for the vast majority of earthlings who do not own a copy of the chom 97.7 L’esprit 2000 cd, which is where I get my Pigeon Hole fix! Enjoy!

And so, when you wonder about the *next* draft of that story, the mysterious angry muscle in my back, the piercing hour of fire alarm that almost made me cry yesterday (I react really badly to loud noises) (it’s really hard to make me cry otherwise) (don’t try), or any of a dozen other scary things that I have do, we can really do little but be grateful for weekends.

Gloria / I think they got your number

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So Much Love by Rebecca Rosenblum

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