On Halloween night, I am drinking a glass of absinthe while watching a History Channel show on notorious subterranean locations in ancient and Victorian England.
Suddenly I suspect I am not wearing enough eyeliner.
Last night I updated the Wii (15 minutes), the PS3 (20 Minutes), and the Wrath of the Lich King Beta (40 minutes). The night before, since I was on vacation when the patch was released, I updated the Actual World of Warcraft application (1 hour) and had a system update as well (15 minutes). I know that there’s also new PSP firmware out there, and that I’m going to have to buy and apply the Rock Band 2 Export Patch pretty soon.
It is official: I now spend more time updating games than I do playing them. I’m not a Gamer anymore; I’m merely an Updater.
When I took this in the mirror I said to myself, “Happy Birthday, old man.”
The Boyfriend got me a very nice Absinthe spoon along with glasses and a bottle of Lucid. And after I opened presents we went to Absinthe for dinner. Kind of a theme going there. My parents got me Rock Band 2 and an iPod, continuing on the theme that they rock.
And being both old and tipsy, you can imagine I fell right to sleep.
Posted here mostly because I got a different result than most of the people I’ve seen take it.
The customer service agent at the airline had to put me on hold for a second while she checked on getting me a vegetarian meal for the flight. Suddenly my ears were filled with Dale Bozzio singing “Destination Unknown.”
I’m not sure which number to press in the phone tree if you don’t know your destination.
As it turns out they discontinued any ‘special’ meals, even in First Class, back in 2002. “Hope there’s something on board you can eat!” she said, sympathetically. I’m surprised the hold music wasn’t “Hungry like the Wolf.”
There is a spot on my shirt.
I am not certain if it is salad dressing or not, though this seems to be the most likely culprit given the balsamic dressing and the small brown dot down the front of me. It’s not the milk from breakfast, nor is it coffee. I know I haven’t spilled coffee on myself today, not even on my pants, like yesterday. Which was fine, since it covered the food splatter I didn’t notice from making dinner in those pants the night before that.
This shirt is extraordinarily wrinkled too, since I sweat through it powerwalking my way to work. I suppose it’s a fair trade since the wrinkles the hanger left on my trousers smoothed out at the same time. I’m thankful the cleaners only costs a dollar and half; money well spent for the 20 minutes of crispness I got impressing the people on BART who weren’t looking at me.
Hopefully this weekend I will remember to wash the bathrobe I have sat in most of the weekend before. As well as the pants that retained the odor of the public restroom I used at lunch.
Can I have the hose and a do-over for last week’s clothes, please?