2002-06-07 - 1:31

No bingo

Frankie's birthday was yesterday, so we had a get-together for supper, which was cool. Although, as Will pointed out, it was odd having so many people together who are just a few years out out of school, talking about the good old days in the industry; but that's how it went with high tech. It's sketchy to count how many people at the table are looking for work or not feeling too stable at their current job. Of course, I'm twice as happy with work now as I was with my first job; so I just keep my mouth shut. Heh.

At any rate, it was fun getting together with everyone. The five of us from the townhouse, along with Alan, ended up heading to the casino after supper. I restricted myself to a relatively modest budget, since I vaguely remembered some huge payment coming up in about two months; and blackjack didn't pan out for me.

Tonight I made it to the mall to pick up some CDs that I had been meaning to buy for a while. Unfortunately, they told me that they didn't have the new Nashville Pussy in yet. Alas. When an album includes a song titled, "Gonna Hitchhike Down To Cincinnati And Kick The Shit Outta Your Drunk Daddy," you know that it has to be good. I managed to find six or seven other discs worth picking up, though.

Since I was headed that way, I decided to hook up with Colin, which was good timing, since Angela was arriving in town tonight to visit him and Jaclyn. I hadn't seen her in ages. Of course, she remains her usual charming, amazing self; and it was excellent hanging out with that crew.

I'll probably pop over to see them again tomorrow. Actually, it should be a busy few days. Saturday is my Montreal trip for Beth Orton, Sunday will see something going on for my birthday, and Monday is the Clouddead show at Babylon. I'm still not sure if I should try to drag someone with me to Clouddead--they're almost too odd to recommend to semi-normal people. Then again, can I really call most of my friends even semi-normal? We'll see.

Lots on the go, for sure, although my only immediate question is whether I should get up early tomorrow to watch the England-Argentina match. I dunno . . . 7:00 AM. Curse the man who invented time zones; curse Sir Sandford Fleming. (Yes, and Pierre Jules Cesar Janssen, while we're at it.)

Ehh . . . I'll try for it . . . sleep is for lightweights.

J.