So...after walking in a few minutes before midnight, I dug into more cleaning of the apartment -- putting things away, sorting some recent laundry/cleaning items, getting things organized, the usual -- and then basically fell into bed. However, in the meanwhile, I've got lots of shit happening in the recent past and the very near future, so I'll address everything quickly:
Rita and the Cali peeps: Pizza was rockin', and the next time I'm on the West Coast, Kaia and I will try and head to SoCal...in fact, we might just meet in LA and spend a few days there before we work our way back up...but 'twas a blast seeing you guys, so thanQ and backatcha :)
To the "ThreeHairyLadies" (someone who responded via e-mail to my last post including a critique of a new TGI Friday's offering for douchebags): Sorry you thought the commercial was good. My recommendation is to quit your supermarket stocker job and become a dishwasher for TGI Friday's. From the grammer and the speeeeeling in your e-mail, I'm sure you'd fit right in.
To "RighteousRick," thanks for clarifying that the second guy in the commercial shouts "Pork!" and not "Steak." I'm glad some among us have the kind of exciting life that would warrant, nee, permit, such a useful use of such little grey matter.
Meanwhile, back in the land of non-make-believe, my place is almost -- not quite, but almost -- liveable. There's very little crap strewn about, albeit more than what you'd find in, say, a Pottery Barn catalog. It's actually kind of funny -- Kaia and I have done the whole Pottery Barn shopping excursion -- she fights me tooth and nail for a sage-ish everyday suede or microfiber couch for the future -- and yet, we never get around to really worrying about what our place will look like. Pottery Barn catalogs always seem to depict warm, cozy spaces, and I give them credit -- almost none of the PB scenery includes people, and people -- not stuff made of wood, glass, metal and leather -- is what makes a house a home. You could fill up a five-story structure with all the furniture annually produced this side of Siam and it wouldn't be a home. But give me an aerobed and a decent comforter, a small TV with a working remote, two glasses, a fridge, a pair of power toothbrushes and my other half, and that's really all I need.
Okay, maybe a wifi connection and a high-speed Centrino notebook with a second power supply, too. But that's not asking that much.
One final note: the Carolina Hurricanes put the nail in the coffin and raised the Stanley Cup tonight. Even for people who could give the smallest shit this side of Herve Villechaize about hockey -- and I'm not one of them -- I'd imagine seeing grown men cry and jump up and down like kids has to be emotionally memorable. But even if you don't know the backstories -- the guy who grew up in a dead-end, backwards-ass town in the middle of Nowhere, Canada, or the guy whose father worked three jobs just so he could buy his son a good pair of hockey skates, or the guy who played for 18 years just for the opportunity to win the Stanley Cup -- it's exciting. I was sorta-kinda pulling for the Oilers, because there's a lot of heritage there for me personally (being a Ranger fan sort of means you have to root for the Oilers, and not just because of the Wayne Gretzky or Mark Messier connections). But just seeing these guys celebrate -- and not just the 15- or 20-year vets but Carolina's 20-year-old goaltender who earned the MVP of the playoffs -- was a nice moment. It wasn't the same for me as watching the same game, 12 years ago, when the Rangers outlasted the Vancouver Canucks to win the Stanley Cup; the Rangers, that night, won their first Cup in 54 years, and I will probably never forget the look on Mark Messier's face when he got his hands on that Cup as a Ranger. Nor will I forget the sounds outside the Garden, or watching the handshakes between Vancouver and the Rangers, nor will I forget the photos, the lights, the smiles and the tears. And I wasn't even playing or in the building that night. Ah, I digress...what is it about that chalice that inspires children to dream and men to become giddy and weak like schoolboys I have no idea; but when it's at stake it is some mighty powerful juju. So even if it wasn't the Rangers' year, there's always next year. And the year after that...and the year after that...and so on...and so on...and so on...
To Be Continued ;)