2005-09-01 - 1:54 p.m.

Um, I have posted a little over at livejournal.com/users/wcfbooks since the last one here. In case you're into dogs humping, there's some business about that.

Michigan was great, and I did a lot of singing of Sting songs. It's hard to keep up with Deborah's constant demands for more of them. Merritt and I are happy to sing Do Russians Love Their Children Too at any time, but beyond that? I'm not going to be reduced to Love is the Seventh Wave. That's just ridiculous. Also we drank this beer. What was it called? Redrice? Or something? It had a pink owl on it. It was good!

When I woke up this morning I thought for a while about the dream I had of Joss and me discussing "Lost," and what we would've done differently had it been our show that we made together. But also we both love it as fans! Don't think we don't. After thinking about that for like a minute, the second thing I thought of today was Rose McGowan and Al Pacino, and how I've been walking around all mad, but really there is no evidence. It could be completely nothing. Didn't Sydney just find like one thing online saying they're dating? That's nothing. It's probably not true at all, right? I mean, his hair and everything, right? It's like this calendar we get at work every year, Extraordinary Chickens, the cover always looks like his hair. There is just no way.

Friday night I played canasta. Saturday night I saw an awesome burlesque show. Sunday night I saw Blair headline at the Green Mill and then went out with him and his band and got super duper drunkenly at Carols. That was so fun although I realized the next day I'd only had breakfast to eat Sunday and that was probably why the whole next hungover day felt like a hell dimension. Angel should've come to save me.

20th screen. Galaga. It's pretty cool there, if you've never been. Maybe you'll make it someday. Doubt. But mayb.

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