Friday
Today was not only the end of the workweek, it turned out to be a decent day, too. The weather, while still a little cool, wasn’t bad.

Post-work, I went to Sanctuary with and her friends Remi and Pedro. It is the local Goth club. Interesting place, but a “good” interesting. The bar had a fairly decent variety of frosty malt beverages on hand, too. There weren’t tons of people there tonight, but there was a decent crowd. I would go again. No arm-twisting necessary.

Song of the Day
Frontier Psychiatrist by The Avalanches

Stray Toasters

  • I stopped at the coffee shop across the street from the office this morning. It was my second time there, but they seemed to remember who I was, relatively speaking. I’m going to chalk that up to the fact that it’s a new shop and their clientele isn’t too large yet… and pray that it isn’t because of some faux pas that I committed the last time that I was there.
  • After tonight’s excursion, I may (may) want to reevaluate/revise my concept of what is and/or is not covered by the words “dance” and “dancing.”
  • There were far too many things to remember from tonight’s assorted conversations and breakfast. Among the ones that stick out, however, are:
    • The “ass-bra”
    • The Pocket Pirate
    • The Celine Dion and Alanis Morrisette clones two tables away from us.
    • Lack of sleep and its affect on awareness.
    • Conversations with polysyllabic words. Or the lack thereof.

Quote of the Day
: Tabasco Sauce. That’s what it’s all about. The Hokey-Pokey lies.

And now, sleep.

Namaste.