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horsies, words, and sleep deprivation
Wednesday, Dec. 10, 2003 | link

I have been so busy. See?

racy behavior

First of all, My Trip to The Races with friend Michael the Librarian! We had hoped to get to Golden Gate Fields for the first race, but we paused on the way for coffee at Peet's, followed by some chatting on the corner with one of Michael's neighbors about noisy garage door openers and the cold and landlord-handling, followed by a big breakfast (every day of gambling needs a firm foundation of potato pancakes, total), and didn't actually get there until a little before the third race.

We mulled over The Official Program and debated the merits of choosing a horse based on its name, or its overall friskiness in the "warming up on deck" pen, or the color combination of the jockey's top. Then we drank a round of early-afternoon drinks and lost money on the third and fourth races. But then! On the fifth race, both our horsies WON! Michael had bet on Motel Staff (a dark brown horse by way of Falstaff and Crafty Missy (by way of Bates Motel), orange-and-black silks) to win, and I had bet on Crooked Key (dappled grey baby of Jaklin and Return Key, red-and-white silks) to place, and our horses ran first and second! Leaving us BOTH WINNERS!

We used our winnings to buy VALUABLE PRIZES (a lucky horseshoe pendant and a lucky-fancy pen) in the gift shoppe! Then we decided to leave winners and darted off to get tea. The end!

- - - - - - - -

words, words, words

I've also been doing a whole lot of typing. More and more PokerSavvy editing (David Sklansky Ate My Brain II and The World Champion and Me), the total nightmare editing/writing of the Webmonkey Wishlist, the Blog Customization Tool Tutorial for the new Tripod Blog Builder 2.0 release. (Had to pause to take a nap halfway through even just the description of that last one? Me too!!).

- - - - - - - -

popcorn, lasagne, five-spice chicken, and costco cream puffs

Last Wednesday night I accidently watched ...? What? The worst movie of all time, Mandy Moore's lisping "minister's daughter with leukemia" vehicle, A Walk to Remember. And what a very long walk it was, oh my god, just the most painful thing ever. And it didn't get started until like one AM (I knew immediately what I was in for and got up to make popcorn) so I didn't get to sleep until three million o'clock.

The next morning I went to work teetering on about three hour's sleep, and then Thursday evening Adrienne and I went to Adam's new apartment in Sophie's insanely-cute-four-unit-building-with-garage-and-hardwood-floors-and-washer-dryer-and-garden building for lasagne and olives and ribald revelry.

After maybe four hours of gritty, red-wine sleep, I got up at five to make the final editing pass on one of the PokerSavvy articles, then headed into work to finish up the Webmonkey hell-article in a caffeine-pumped panic, then raced off to the Slanted Door for a late and super-long fancy five-spiced chicken lunch with Mo. After gossiping about boys and letting our umbrellas get to second base, lunch finally ended at maybe four. So instead of heading all the way back into work, I did some incredibly sleep-deprived shopping (I spent 56 dollars on socks?) and wobbled home for a twenty-minute kittycat nap before racing off to the Swedish American Hall to work the door at the "Roll out the Barrel Small Press Fest" reading, which was sponsored by Ecstatic Monkey, this group of writers and small publishers that I loosely belong to (I know, another Monkey thing, huh? Just how many "see no evil" puns can one girl take in a lifetime?). Jill and Vendela came, too, and the three of us chat-chatted in the post-reading milling about the art of buying the perfect boot and attending parties in mortifying outfits. Then Vendela took off to get ready for her trip to, I think, Lapland (the country, not the strip bar), and Jill and I went to Sparky's for grilled cheese and fries.

On Saturday morning, I got up and went down to Liz's for coffee, then I went back up to my apartment and made pancakes from scratch and Liz and Ivan came up and ate them along with me and some lingonberry syrup. The pancake-making and -eating (and maybe the cumulative monster-fatigue of the previous week?) left me in an odd stupor that had me stuck in my robe until about 6, when I finally rallied to start outfit negotiations for a night of party-hopping, and lots and lots of Costco cream puffs, with Liz.

Sunday I went out to a nice brunch at the new Pork Store (nee Bitterroot, nee an endless string of other waxing and waning breakfast places) on 16th, and then that evening Jay and I went to The Makeout Room for a nice, Sunday-mellow night of The Bother (my "Night Bleeds Gold" CD cracked and each play cracks it even worse, so I've been listening to an ever-dwindling supply of Bother-some songs, sad!) along with a full lineup of various other strummy bands.

Then I spent all Monday and yesterday wondering where my weekend, and my youth, had gone.

And ... take care!

(PS: My diary has officially moved over to my official evany.com website. Let's meet up over there!)

(PS: My diary has officially moved over to my official evany.com website. Let's meet up over there!)

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