shaken & stirred

welcome to my martini glass


A really good weekend and short words about it.

Friday was insane at work, so I declared a much-needed night out. We went for dinner at our favorite little French(ish) place, and then walked up and had a drink at this bar next to our Starbucks. The weird thing is that we always seem to happen on these really talented young musicians at the kiosk in between the businesses. A kid who would be better off playing his electric cello and not writing songs, but who we listened to for a good half hour and enjoyed immensely. His folks were there, seeing as it was his first gig, and we the only people who didn't know him. I feel really sorry for any girl this kid (okay, I say kid, but I mean early 20s--um, not much younger than me, prolly) dates because his mother is the doting unbelievably supportive type and no one's ever going to measure up to that. But, he's sure going to date a lot, if his lyrics indicate his proclivities at falling in love. (The cute thing, actually, was that he physically described the love interest du jour in each song, and they were all different girls.)


Then I put on my black spiderweb cowboy boots and we went to a benefit for a local political activist group--a Friday the 13th Black Cat benefit. Very fun--the new bar has liquor and I had two too many gin and tonics and a fine time listening to a bluegrass jam session and a really good set by Amy Rigby and Lucinda Williams' road guitarist. Amy has really nice stage presence and is a fabulously funny and heart-wrenching songwriter.

Then we went home a little early, say midnight, and ran into an old friend of mine and his friends papering up fliers downtown and chatted to them. Unfortunately, we didn't make it to their barbecue today because Christopher is still jamming on his Syc Hill story (which is going awesomely well).

It wasn't until Saturday morning, slightly hungover at brunch at the French cafe we've been dying to go to for weeks that I realized I'd lost my ATM card the night before. Let us all cross our fingers it's just a petty annoyance easily taken care of over the phone in the a.m. I'm pretty sure I left it spit out of the machine, which probably just ate it.

So, writing for Christopher (whose daily word counts are much higher than mine -- not to mention better quality) while I moaned and groaned and watched Real Women Have Curves, which was charming and bright and had some lovely, lovely scenes in it. One of the things I liked best about it, actually, was how it resisted playing out set-ups in favor of emotional pay-offs. Nice. And the sewing factory is fascinating.

Then we watched the first two episodes of Out of Order on Showtime. Really good, though a bit overdone at times. But I like it lots and lots and will watch the remaining two episodes. Some nice writing and believable performances and the relationships are excellently drawn.

Bed. Breakfast today, gym, half of Roxanne(hush), then to the coffeeshop to write (got to finish that damn YA), then bookstore to buy magazines and Tithe and a short story collection I can't remember the name of.

I, Lucifer is really good by the way, if you're fence-sitting on it.

And a lovely talk with Kristin tonight, and other stuff I haven't mentioned and all in all not a bad weekend but I'm cranky because it's over and now to bed.

Good night.


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