Something I like to do when I'm driving through my neighborhood and I see a cat in a front yard is stop, roll down my window, and engage the cat in conversation. As you can imagine, the conversation is generally completely one-sided, but it amuses me greatly to see the looks on the cats' faces, so I will never stop doing it. Yesterday Francisco and I were coming back from the track and there was a big black and white cat in a yard. I asked Francisco to stop (he was driving, as per usual) and I rolled down the window and said, "Excuse me, could you tell me how to get to ____________ [our street--omitted for privacy reasons]"? The cat meowed loudly and started walking over to the car but was distracted by a tall and particularly succulent stalk of grass, which he decided to chew on. I was laughing at him and then I noticed his person had come out of the house onto the front stoop. CAUGHT! Francisco saw him come out and said the man knew I was talking to the cat, though I don't know if he understands it was for funnyness purposes. We drove away laughing, and I will still never stop doing talking to cats, though it was a tiny bit embarrassing to be caught.
On Friday night Boy was at his friend's house, so Francisco and I watched a movie Boy couldn't watch--The Sweetest Thing. I didn't care to see that movie when it was in theaters, but that's probably because I didn't know how funny it is. I mean, it's mostly over-the-top humor, but I have nothing against that, so I enjoyed it a lot. Recommended. The next morning Francisco and I went to the library and to a hardware store (in search of the paint sticks--I'm going to have to order them from the interweb) and then on the way home we saw a sign that said, "ART SHOW, OPEN TO THE PUBLIC, PG 13". Of course we went, and this art show was a really cool idea. There were clotheslines strung through a large yard and there were paintings and photographs hanging from them (with big pieces of cardboard hanging behind the art to make a wall-like effect). Most of the art was impressive, but I'll tell you right now, it was all Waaay overpriced for an art show in somebody's front yard. For instance, the least expensive art was 4 x 6 inch photos, matted and framed, for $125. It's not that the photos weren't good, though frankly they weren't spectacular, but that's just a lot of money, especially since the frames were cheap. Is it just me? Am I completely out of touch with art prices? I'm willing to accept that I might be. Needless to say, we didn't buy anything, but I think the whole enterprise was a great idea, and I especially loved their very friendly German Shepherd who was greeting everyone.
Yesterday morning we got up early-ish (early for a weekend) and watched some Olympics while having breakfast. We then showered and dressed and went in search of the Durham train yard. We found it! It's not much of a yard, though--just 4 or 5 tracks running parallel for a few city blocks--but there were some train cars and some graffiti to photograph. Excellent! Not a place I'd want to hang around in alone, though--even with Francisco there I was a bit uneasy. After the train yard we went for a good old fashioned Sunday drive. This was so I could take pictures of trees covered with kudzu, except that we didn't really see any for some reason. Took pictures of other things, and we ended up in Burlington, where we had lunch at a huge Chinese buffet. Boy loved that so much he declared that we need to eat there every week, but I think that would be terrible folly and would negate any and all exercise performed during the previous week.
I slept badly again last night--took awhile to fall asleep and then woke up at 2-ish and laid awake for 2.5 hours. After I went back to sleep, I had one good dream and then several nightmares, which seems rather unfair. I managed to accompany Francisco to the gym this morning, where I heard some assy radio DJ talking about various things, including some people who had a meteorite hit their backyard and who called NASA to offer it to them. I was wondering if meterorites must, by law, be turned over to NASA or could they, for instance, be sold on eBay? Francisco said he thought they could be sold, but said it could be risky, liability-wise, because you wouldn't know what they were composed of. Like, they could be Kryptonite! Or radioactive or something. That's a good point and if a meterorite ever falls into our yard, I think I'm going to let NASA take it.
Also at the gym this morning, we saw a fabric-softening dryer sheet on one of the treadmills, which was funny for reasons I think are obvious. [clue: how did it get there?]
Did I already talk about how, when I was in Scotland, I was unable to get ahold of Boy and Francisco on Boy's birthday (July 12th--our last night with the tour group) and I was so, SO upset? I was trying to be calm and rational and not a big baby about it, but I kept thinking how Boy might assume I forgot his birthday or that I didn't care enough to call. In an effort to distract myself from being sad, I went with the group to a nearby pub that night but I was so damn miserable I couldn't even pretend not to be, so I left the pub after one drink and wept loudly in a field on the way back to the hostel. It was only after I was finished with my little breakdown (about ten cathartic minutes of sobbing) that I noticed 4 sheep nearby, staring at me curiously and a bit warily. I asked them which one was going to come over and comfort me, but none of them volunteered. "Fine", I said. "Fuck Ewe!" Okay, I didn't say that last thing, but I wanted to work 'fuck ewe' into this story--mission accomplished. Anyway, that was a bad night, and I wish I'd known at the time that the reason I couldn't reach home is because there was a huge storm and massive power outages in our area, including outages that effected phone service. I also wish I'd known that Francisco mixed up the date and wished Boy a happy birthday the day before his birthday (also a day I couldn't call--we were on Orkney and I didn't have a phone card), so they weren't even thinking I would call on the 12th. Live and learn--should've been happy and kept drinking at the pub.
This morning I was fantasizing about owning a small motel. I shared the idea with Francisco and he also thought it would be fun. He did put the kibosh, though, on my idea of decorating half the rooms with a Mexican theme and half with an Indian theme and calling it the 'The Hola Delhi Motor Court'. He didn't love the idea of naming it 'The Come On Inn', but accepted that it's exactly the kind of name which would appeal to middle-aged women from Minnesota, who would read it and turn to their husbands and say, "What a clever name! Herb, let's stay there." If I don't become a mailman or a radio DJ, I think I want to have a motel.
People, I have got SO many projects ideas simmering right now. Life is so exciting! Work, however, is not. This Monday is making me thirsty.
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