Your stairway lies on the whispering wind

Let's see. I am off work until Saturday! Hell, yes, it is time to paint the goddamned town red. By which I mean, uh, prune my rosebush, and probably bake something.

Life. So exciting. It's like an action movie over here.

The broken pipe in the yard is fixed, though the yard still looks like crap, given that they had to dig up a good portion of it just to find the leak. Anyway, um, Mom's tomato plants are producing! I ate a tomato yesterday, and goddamn if it wasn't the most delicious thing I've ever tasted. Home-grown produce is completely amazing, totally beyond the ken of modern man, and it makes me very upset that we have to be so dependent on shipped, shelf-ripened, flat, flavorless produce. When I have my own place, I will diligently plant a little vegetable garden every year, and have at least two fruit trees, and be as self-sufficient as is feasible with respect to consumption. It's better for me, better for the earth, and LIFE WILL BE DELICIOUS.

I am seeing a baseball game tonight with my father. I expect it'll be a good game; according to Dad, it's the Mariners' star pitcher versus the White Sox's star pitcher (who threw a no-hitter recently, apparently?), so I am hoping for some classy pitchers'-duel action.

Needless to say, I did not find someone with whom to see last night's Down concert. THAT IS A PITY. However, Clutch is playing in Philadelphia on September eleventh, so I need to make at least one friend at UPenn, if for no other reason than to drag them along to that show. I've had at least three opportunities to see them in the last two years, and I've managed to miss every one, so I think it's time to get off my ass and change that.