Ok, so I don't have a mammogram in the morning.....I do have a doctor's appt tomorrow after work, which sucks because I'm broke and co-pays are slightly evil....but anyhoo....this weekend was amazing. So amazing that Monday is becoming more and more like that disease that you hope that you never get but you are at high risk for it. That disease is called work.
How I wish I had been immunized at an early age.
No new revelations have been made this weekend. I mean yes, it was my anniversary this weekend which was awesome but I meant in my "world" news. Other than the oil spills, the bomb scare and the fact that Jamba Juice on 6th Ave doesn't have an Orange Juice machine that worked - there's nothing going on.
What I will tell you is that The Snug is a decent bar, it was hot and I'm drinking a Magic Hat #9 while hoping that the combination of Sam Adams, Coors Light and Magic don't leave me in a state of reckoning tomorrow.
It's Summer Time though and I'm feeling manic. I mean who doesn't? The call of the cooled down wind after a scorcher of an afternoon. You can smell the undertones of earth and moisture with the heady overtones of promise and moonlight. Poetic but true.
I am starting work on The Book Peddler - my other blog - and still working on Zombie Love. Let's hope that one of those things can be a success within the next couple of months.
And on that note...later skaters.
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