Today turned out to be a pretty good day, in spite of how it started. Basically, I did engineering problems for most of the day, taking needlessly long breaks to fondle the axe (hee hee I said fondle), pick up the dry cleaning, and run a little.
I had something to look forward to, though. This morning my sister asked me if I'd like to have dinner out with the family at Red Lobster. I was like, 'yeah!' then I remembered last week Iman mentioned that it was lobsterfest now so I was like, 'hells yeah!' It was nice to get out of the house. Silver Spring is getting a little crowded though, although it might be because everyone decided to come out today, the first bona fide nice day we've had in what feels like forever. So, fast forward to now, after dinner: I'm stuffed, more stuffed than I've been in a while, since that sushi dinner a few weekends back. I'm so stuffed right now I can't even say 'mmmm...sushi...' without lying.
Another great thing about tonight is I finally got around to buying Madeleine Peyroux's last album. I almost didn't because the line at Border's was so long, but since my sister was buying shoes I had plenty of time to wait in line. Ha, that's such a chauvinistic thing to say, but it's so true...
...So, the album--it's probably her most romantic-sounding album yet. On first listen it's not as good as Dreamland, but it's still very good. It's one of those albums best listened to at night, preferably with someone special. I've recently bought a lot of those kinds of albums, and not out of some bizarre need to feel wistful or wallow in self-pity. I think my taste is just--egad!--maturing. It feels like ages since I've bought a punk or new wave album (except for the Bow Wow Wow album I got at Joe's two Saturdays ago). Recently I'd been listening to the Marvelettes and Richard Hawley, and consequently I can almost hear my dad telling my mom, 'See? Your son's gay!'
Nah, my dad's cool. He wouldn't say that, but I suspect he's thought it before. It wouldn't bother me if he did, though--I mean, so what, right? But incidentally, Madeleine Peyroux looks a lot like a girl from my past--the only girl from my past, actually--the Polish princess. So see, Dad? I'm not gay. I just have high standards. And I put the pussy up on a pedestal.
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