(no subject)

Oh seriously? An earthquake?

I slept right through it -- eight years in California have taught me not to fear earthquakes -- but still, it's the principle of the thing. It's not paranoia when you have corrorborating evidence!

Actually the quake is far closer to St Louis than to Chicago, so I can concede that perhaps it wasn't actually aimed at me, but I am telling you if it starts raining frogs this afternoon I am out of here.

(no subject)

R was right when he said that this kind of weather is the reason people move to Chicago. It's perfect out -- it reminds me of weekend trips we used to take to Sacramento, and seeing films in the park at night in Boston, and that one perfect evening sitting and watching Julius Caesar on the Commons. Stepping outside at ten o'clock at night and feeling comfortable in shirtsleeves...I guess I've imprinted it as something innately good and just slightly sinful.

I came home from work and fell asleep on the sofa, got up in time to meet the delivery guy with the groceries, cooked myself a quick meal (portobellos, brie, fig jam) and am about to fall asleep again. R's show at the gay bar went over well -- they filled to capacity and he's still beaming goofily about it, and he has reason -- he played me his recording of it and it sounds really great. He did not put any extra ass-shake into the programme but his vocalist did make some jokes about him being an ornamental addition to the performance, and also about the size of his dick, which may have contributed to the overall sense of smug well-being he's projecting. They got invited to make it a weekly gig, but they're not sure whether they will yet. Anyway, he's happy, and he just took off to go preach the blues with the Rat-Packer.

Bed sounds sublime.

*conks out*