It is four o'clock on a Friday afternoon, and the big question is whether or not to have a drink. Yet, I mean. If I start now, there are six hours until bed. I can do a lot of damage in that time. If I wait until six, less. But it is Friday even if I am not a working stiff after all.
I poured some tequila and sweetened lime juice into the martini shaker with a big bunch of ice. It is not a Margarita, but it is passable. It is not, however, what I want. I may pitch it and pour some wine in a moment.
The afternoon is most beautiful. The maids have come and done their worst while I sat out with my mother and shot the breeze. Now I am on the deck with the cats, the squirrels screaming their best, most itritating cat-hater chant. I may throw a rock.
Pitched the tequila. I wasn't about to get my money's worth from that.
I bought a ribeye steak to grill tonight. Asparagus. A red potato. A bottle of red wine. Somewhere someone is missing out. Afterward there will be a movie, perhaps, if I can find something worthwhile. If not, I will look for an art documentary, perhaps on Sylvette, Picasso's teenage muse.
Don't they look good together, like some romantic ideal? Well. . . they each had their talents.
I have a photo of a woman that I adore that I am sure she would not. But it sings to me some sweet inner music.
I've spent the last half hour looking for some Hammond B3 organ music that could match the feeling I get from this pic, but to no avail. Everything I found was rock and too much quick jazz, not the sweet melodic sounds that instrument makes that I was looking for. I'm surprised at the brevity of what such a search is able to mine. Selavy.
I will prepare my steak for the grill now, and the asparagus and potato, too. The wine will go better with the food and then there will be the after dinner scotch. The day is rushing westward and the cats want to be fed. It is the cycle of things. I'm O.K. Tonight will be good. I will seek contentment.
ReplyDeleteWell, I can see why Saturday AM is short. That's a lot to unpack (especially for you). Good though. Very. Thank you. :). I liked the whole thing.
I love the "singing sweet inner music." It's a really good use of words. I may steal it.
I hear/see too. Yuppy.
I've just completed a babysitting gig. I got stoned with Baby Daddy before I left and now I want to nap. But I have to get my oil changed. It has read 0% Life for weeks. That's bad I know. So I must do that. But I'm going to just rest my eyes for like 15 minutes. I have a dull headache - I hope it isn't from the shot. That won't help me. As per someone. I don't really remember if I finished the wine. I ate a very strong edible. And watched Mr. Klein.
Whom, I love of course. Wouldn't it be something if I found out the photo of Ali I got at the Flea years ago was one of his? That's the kind of stuff a picker dreams about. I would be his caretaker in a heartbeat. I'm worried about him dying since I just met him. I could gush on and on. But I will look for his movie about Cassius Clay. I'm sure I saw something of his at MOMA.
I roller coastered on the edible - after the movie - shivering with awareness of which I wasn't sure was real or brought on by the THC - then just smiled and smiled, then got paranoid. I rode it out. Try to use whatever drug induced thinking I can for good. Eventually passed out. Oh the Indian Food probably didn't help. I was on some crazy Spicy Saag Paneer, Tikka Masala, Veggie Pakora, Garlic Naan THC journey. And the Moon too. I got a peek.
Wee nap. 15 minutes.