Are you attempting irony here or are you telling us the truth?

Maybe it's the Ibuprofen I've been taking in the mornings before heading out to work, maybe it's the change in the season, maybe my psyche has given up on the grumbling and allowed me to do things I've been threatening to do now for months. Although I doubt it. One's psyche generally keeps the reins pretty tight. Nothing spectacular happening for all of that, but a good week none the less.

I've spent time for the first time in the living room getting things up and functional instead of crawling into bed and watching my weird-assed Kung-Fu programs on television. The ones without subtitles. The “weird-assed” directed at my watching them rather than the programs themselves, which are excellent pieces of entertainment for seven year old boys who speak Mandarin Chinese. MSV speaks excellent Mandarin Chinese and she informs me the stuff I've been watching is absolute crap and I'm thinking, as I'm hearing this; well yes, but only for those who understand the language.

Saturday. The sun is shining, there is a nip in the air, people are out on the sidewalks and running around the lake, puffing along in their various attempts to enter this winter holiday season and survive. Across from my breakfast cafe the Weight Watchers are milling about in their building. I can see them standing in line to step up on the scales while a staff member writes the results as I pass. Life is strange. I pass a set of newspaper boxes with another flier taped to the side. Someone looking for bandmates: “New material so offensive & shocking it defies categories!”. Indeed. The Farmer's Market is being assembled across from the theater. Health gypsies, setting up tents.

I shoot a couple of photographs, I get home, I sit down at the computer. It's morning, not yet nine o'clock. I've been talking a good show, but now I think I need a nap. Excitement and the day is still young.