This morning, I went and got a hair cut, and then worked out with my trainer, and then went to the Seattle monthly bash and hung out for a while and ate some of a contender for Best Chocolate Cake Ever, and then did *not* go home and collapse on the couch, but instead went to a pub and saw a band play--a coworker I've known for several years was playing his first gig with them, as drummer. And they! kicked! ass! There was no ass in the room, because they kicked it right out the door. The whole band tickled me--they were so obviously having a great time, and every time we applauded at the end of a song they grinned like loons at the hollering and whooping, and you could tell they were pumped. They were insanely good, and it didn't hurt that one guitarist reminded me of David Thewlis, and another of Ryan Reynolds, an adorable puppy. I gave K. a hug after the second set, telling him, "I want some of your sweat!" Am now infected by their insanely hyper rocking energy.
Tomorrow I'm going with kjv31 to see Shaun of the Dead, which always makes me think of Shaun Cassidy. I may sleep until then, once I settle down. Meanwhile, there is no food in the house!!!! Four exclamation points. I don't know what I'll do about this. Maybe call up for pizza and eat the delivery man.