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Here In Oakland

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April 7, 2013

In The Kitchen
Sunday. To bed at ten after watching House last night right to the bitter end. I'm finding reasons to watch it after initially being put off by the constant over the top head banging, but then seeing there was a certain method in its madness. Probably an admission of one's own madness.

Psychoanalysis on a budget.

But to bed and up on another overcast morning at six-thirty without having set the alarm, running by the ATM before having eggs Benedict for breakfast. Which led to a nap after some slight ocular symptoms appeared when I arrived home. (I was wondering how those eggs Benedict might work out.) Maybe just factor the fact these things will haphazardly happen when I eat something I'm not sure about. Let it happen, but at a convenient time when you're near a comfortable bed. Hup.

There's a San Francisco demonstration in support of Bradley Manning scheduled for three this afternoon at Powell and Market. I probably won't go, but then I never know until the last minute. Overcast and grey out there, not particularly inviting, although I wouldn't mind shooting some pictures.

Later. A slow afternoon. A slow Sunday afternoon doing little or nothing other than a walk to the usual place for lunch (which included ice cream) and a bus back to the apartment. No adventures, no complaints.

And that's it?

The longer the wind, the worse the verse.

Evening. Flipping through the various television channels watching a bit of this and that, tuning the guitar and sitting down finally to practice. We'll watch Moyers & Company and then head for bed, but first a spaghetti with clam sauce dinner and maybe a shot of whiskey.

The last time you had spaghetti with clam sauce you had a reaction that led you to bed and, I assume you do remember, you've been off whiskey for the same reason.

I also said, earlier this morning: “let it happen, but at a convenient time when you're near a comfortable bed”. The time is convenient and I'm hungry (and there's nothing else right now in the kitchen).

A bad sign when you start quoting yourself.

The photo up top was taken at the San Francisco Saint Stupid's Day Parade with a Nikon D4 mounted with a 70-200mm f 2.8 VR II Nikkor lens.


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