- nailed a pair of freelance writing gigs.
- made initial arrangements for an interview with Sally Timms.
- in general, have been writing like a madman.
- got funnybooks in the mail.
- finished reading a pretty good novel.
- watched at least one excellent movie.
- started working out again.
- hung out with some friends who are fantastic human beings.
- acquired some sweet, sweet illegal software.
- put cool logo for shitty hair-metal mand Angel on my work computer.
So, weighed against my normal financial, sexual and existential despair, it's been, on balance, a pretty good arbitrary seven-day stretch. Not bad! Knot bread!
Tonight I go to see my still-beloved-despite-their-extreme-suck
I am hoping that it will be another win like last night's off of two back-to-back shots by Big Mo and DJ, and I am hoping that my man Mark Buehrle gets his thing-thing back and picks up a win. (I am also hoping, guiltily, that Barry Bonds -- the best player I have ever seen -- is in the lineup and hits a home run. Just one. With no one on base and the Sox staked to a 6-0 lead.) We got the swanko club seats (with waiter service!), so I'm looking forward to a swingin' time either way.
If the Sox pick up a win, I choose to delude myself that it will mark a turning point where they'll come on strong for the rest of the year and, if not grabbing the wild card, at least make a decent showing and salvage this pitiful year. If the Sox lose it, I'm pretty much giving up on this big shitter of a season.