Couple of minutes past midnight on a Monday morning. Theoretically, my new hard drive should be arriving tomorrow – which means that I’ll be able to return to something resembling normalcy, computer-wise.
Had a go at cooking what I think were portabello mushrooms tonight. They certainly looked like portabello mushrooms, and they lacked a label saying otherwise. (As in: there were four different kinds of mushrooms at my local grocery store. Three had labels, none of which said “portabello”; the ones that I bought did not. Yes, I’m a firm believer in the process of elimination.)
Listening to the new Jay Farrar disc, which I’m enjoying so far. It’s not nearly as dramatic as his last album (or Son Volt’s Wide Swing Tremolo, for that matter), but that’s not necessarily a problem. Just finished a Jett Brando piece for Copper Press, and I’ve got another freelance music piece to work on before the week is done.
Right now, though, it simply feels good to be typing again; to have something finished in front of me; to feel that sort of satisfaction.
Finished Craig Thompson’s graphic novel Blankets a little while ago. At six hundred pages, it’s a fairly dense read; Thompson doesn’t shy away from tackling a number of fairly weighty themes in it. I felt exhausted upon finishing it – generally a good sign, as these things go. There’s a quote on the back cover saying, “…the most important graphic novel since Jimmy Corrigan“. That sounds about right to me.
There’s a MoCCA story to be told, but it won’t be told now.
It’s pretty damn funny, though. It wasn’t funny (well, not to me, at least) at the time, but it’s starting to make me smile.
And it involves a talking tree. Kind of.
I really hope at least one of you is remotely intrigued by all of this exposition.