It’s a busy morning now, so I will make this brief.
I spent much of my day intending to sample Euphoriato see if it would be a good series for Nicole and I to adopt in the future–and ended up bingeing. Then because I was caught up in how her day went (first day back with in-seat education) and getting dinner prepared (a Pasta La Fata kit of ravioli and arancini), I forgot to tell her. That show is…an adult dose, which is an ironic phrase, but its compassion far exceeds its extreme vision. I think she will like it–plus she once sampled a show for us that she and my mom called “historical porn,” the name of which I can’t remember, but I haven’t seen it yet.
I should have much more to say tomorrow. I recall what my dad said when we got married: “Don’t let the doorknob hit you in the ass.”
Streaming for Survivors:
Needed something for just the right energy this morning. Found it.
Well, for myself, I can see I over-posted! And I didn’t even wish people a Happy New Year–instead, I let loose with a Gene Vincent “quote.” I’m odd.
I got in a friendly cyber argument with my friends Kevin and Eric (definitely not Tim and Eric)! Evil Kevin was trying to make me pick between the Stones and the Velvets; my stance was “Why do I have to choose?” as well as “Why even compare these bands?” You cannot win an argument with anyone who has Eric’s backing (he’s that smart), and I guess I argue so infrequently they thought I had a case of the red-ass, which I didn’t. To get Kevin’s teeth out of my leg, I chose VU because they seem less colonial to me.
Nicole and I sampled the amazing cuisine of Pasta La Fata here in Columbia! You order, they make the pasta and sauce and everything and run it out to you, and you get to have the fun of assembling and cooking it! We had not had authentically Italian food in forevz and Pasta La Fata’s was scintillating. What did we order? Mostaccioli in Sugo sauce with salsiccia meatballs and cheese tortelloni in a brown butter and herb sauce. How’s that grab ya, darling? We will call them up again.
Nicole beat my butt in Scrabble as usual. My game-long paucity of vowels eventually led me to resign–can you resign in Scrabble? Seemed like the only thing for me to do to stop the bleeding, as I was also holding a Q and a J.
No one karaokes like my old pal Brock, and we got to watch him “do a show” for his family in the Boland lair. He appears to be training his talented daughter Fay to take over her dad’s business; it was almost as fun as being at a club!
We didn’t call anybody. Nobody called us! It’s fun to do on New Year’s Eve, but apparently not that fun.
Though time and calendars are constructs of human beings, I am damn glad 2020 is over. It was the worst year of my life, easily. I’m not even totally sure what the damage is; I know there is some. But, I tell you what (what’s the origin of that phrase? it cracks me up!), in our 30-plus years together Nicole and I have seldom been apart–this year, we were more together than ever, and not only did I truly enjoy it, I’m not sure we ever argued seriously, and I am sure I’d have not made it without her. Also, I think thumbing out these entries helped, too. It’s not like I ever bare my soul; it’s just a record of what happened, plus a way for me to keep pushing music. But when things seemed to be falling apart, I could write one, read it back, and see some order. Thanks for bearing with me.