Me and Ms. Emmy
Friday. We were about half way into the evening sitting in a place where we were having difficulty getting service, five of us at this point, having started at Barklay's with a larger group of current company and former company employees celebrating Christmas and toasting the death of the old company now that half of us have been informed we are being laid off. Well, we've been toasting the death of the old company now since I've been with the company. Some advantage to that. Toasting the old company is rather fun, nice to do it every year or so to remind yourself that fun is fun and that change, even arrested change, is the way of the world. There in Rockridge or here in Oakland.
This, of course, is the start of a four day weekend. I spent two days back at the office, yesterday and today, after a calendar week of vacation. I said I was going to develop the black and white film and hang the pictures, have done neither, but I have four days ahead to make good on the promise. Lots of sleep, a walk here and there, watching movies. The head still aching and buzzing inside a bell, but the mood is good and I'm thinking whatever comes down the pike is going to be OK (with certain exceptions). Life is good.
The picture was taken at Ben N’ Nick's just before we soldiered on to À Côté where we sat out back in their tent enclosed patio populated by big electric heaters and what looked like half the town. Things got a bit blurry after that, but the food was good - the mixed cheese plate especially - and we left broke and happy. I think. As I said, it tends to blur after a while. It's always tended to blur after a while, one of the reasons I do it.
Christmas Eve on Sunday, a nice time to spend at home in front of the fire. Actually, my last place had a fireplace that I let sit for two years without using it so the fact my current apartment does not have a fireplace is not a defect. The wall heater pumps out hot air like a son of a bitch blowing it over me and Ms. Emmy here in front of the computer (in Oakland).
|
