"HOW SOON IS NOW?"

I did my hair last night. I wasn't in love with the blue, so I made big pink stripes like I used to have about a year ago. Like this, but not all in one clump. more like tiny pink highlights. Anyway. I woke up last night at like three thinking someone was knocking on my door, and, you know, going back nye-nye when you get a big adrenaline boost is no small feat, so I sat up and petted my cat's nose and played solitaire. Don't be jealous of my sexy, exciting night!

(There is fresh concrete being poured across the street. What should I write once the workers turn their backs??)

Gosh, the weather is beautiful today. It's sunny and 70ish. That is good livin', if you ask me. And, as I type, enjoying said weather, I'm by an open, breezy window, enjoying a cup of Cafe du Monde's chickory coffee and that makes me glad. Well, there is the smell of bacon in the air from the counter of this coffeeshop I write from, but other than that, it's totally peas and carrots.

On my way over, I saw a teensy tiny fender bender, no damage to either truck, but it was between two big burly meat-headdy puff-ups, so they hopped out of their respective giant vehicles and had some words and bumped chests. I mean, for real, they were shouting and being pissy and touched chests and then bounced off each other. The temptation to shout "Kiss him!" as I crossed the street was almost too much. But, really, it's a lovely day and my breezy sunshine and good coffee and writing spree is coming together to make me reeeeeaaaaaaaallllly happy.

I'm really ready for fall. Have I mentioned that a thousand times yet? As wonderfully awesome as this summer has been for me, I've have more uphill than I wanted, so I'm eager to seal it up and move to the next. Come to think of it, I want to say somebody I know has a theory about August, or August and April or even-numbered months feeling more uphill than others. Who said that? What it you, Schwartzy? Laurel? Who was it? Eh, I can't remember. Was it Hyperbole Mel? No, shit, I can't remember. Fuggetit. Speaking of friends, I heard from Mermaidhead this morning, who is mere days away from (a) giving birth to little Neptune (b) getting herself free from bedrest and (c) getting shitfaced at the bris.