Workin’ weekend
Friday night I babysat for nieces Avery and Madeleine, while my sister Monica and oldest niece Merritt were camping out with the Brownies.
Saturday I had lunch with my dad and everyone that splits season tickets for the Astros. I don’t split with them anymore, but Mary couldn’t make it, so I did her picking. I’m sure I’ll get some left-over tickets from Mary, Dad, or Raymond at some point. They usually end up with some they can’t use. I also got 4 free tickets to one of the exhibition games in early April.
Then I went to the office for several hours of work. There’s a bunch of case filings we’re trying to deal with. The reins of the Fen-Phen cases have been passed a few times, and some mishandling was aparent before.
partial lyrics of Sari, Nelly McKay
Well now I don’t mean to offend, much
Just comprehend
When you’re female and you’re fenced in and
Fen-phened to no end
And no zen guide to men will help you fend off the brethren
And then the pen appears
And better than the oxygen network
Or the sword or the spear or the fork
Or the bored pork-fed horde
It’s a mooring post
The whore you’ll miss the most when you’re away
When you’re in Snowshoe PA
Doin’ some play from Backstage
That deals with AIDS and race and gays and
Relationships and ballet
And then you’re like “hey yay what’d you say?
I can just sing my troubles away?”
But then you’re fucked
’cause you gotta make a buck
And the whole world sucks
And you’re like a lame duck
That’s lyin’ dyin’ tryin’ to sell out
But there’s no one buyin’ and there’s all this doubt
And you can preen and dream and scream and shout
But your life’s affliction is the fiction of Faust
…anyway, it was only a few hours, and mostly mindless (though not skill-less, some adeptness of searching for doctors on the internet speeds things considerably) so it went quickly.
I went out to see a bit of Moot & Wayne & Pete at the Continental club. And hung at the Big Top a bit. I leave a little early on Thursday, and miss Friday entirely, and there are stories all over the place. So, I heard some of those.
Now I’m up early on a Sunday morning to go assist some friends (and get a little ching) on a construction job. 3939 Westheimer. Gotta meet up at the shop (a.k.a the back of the Big Top) to get the tools for the day. Welder Dave, Leaning Jack, Bongo Jimmy, and me. Should be interesting.
-b
560 lost: Some 560 pairs of combats boots are laid out to represent the more than 560 US troops killed since the start of the war in Iraq one year ago, at a memorial organized by anti-war groups to protest the first anniversary of the war in Iraq in front of the Federal Building in the Westwood section of Los Angeles. (AFP/Robyn Beck)
