010: Retrace the sounds

I guess we're at that point... that fargone stagnant point deep into the hazy thicke of summer when you know, boy, you know there ain't no goin' back.

I say this because, according to last night's forecast, and corroborated by my experience today, today we've finally reached 30-ish. It's that point where I must abandon pants (for shorts, pervs.) And you know you'll never get those breezy innocent carefree days of spring back. The calendar may say that the 21st is 4 days away, but it's summer. No denying.

With summer comes a change in mood, or at least a certain temporary grumpiness around here. Eric's brooding. He's the most blatant brooder I've ever met. Whenever he's in a bad mood, I'm afraid to say, it is (as the saying goes,) palpable. You can feel it deep within you. He makes you (by you, you see, I mean "me,") feel whatever misery he feels. Today, he feels lethargic, unenergetic, disgruntled even. He's a bitter ole miser on the couch, ungrateful for the small fortunes pitted his way - he didn't have to make dinner tonight, by the grace of mom, but he doesn't seem appreciateive. He's being paid to watch Emily's dog, but he's unhappy about having to walk the little guy. C'est la vie, n'est-ce pas?

And me? Well, I've been keeping to myself, avoiding major altercations (and there have been those times when he simply, without call, blurts out something about my behaviour, and I decide whether or not I want to make the mistake of responding.)

I bought myself a Coke in a glass bottle. As much as I am partial to the can format, the bottle provides a certain refreshment that somehow justifies its inflated price for measurably less cola. It also gives me an excuse to use my bottle opener, which is shaped like a Coke bottle... and therefore gives me the opportunity to look like a total addict... which I am.

It's that rare time when virtually nobody is online. I guess they're all watching hockey. Imagine... hockey in this weather.

Oh by the way... go Sweden.

And Blue Jays.

And keep on rockin'
=Scotto