2002-12-01 - 9:35 p.m.

For the past week or so, I�ve been living my life, and not wasting it. It�s been really fun, and I�m hoping that old sword of Damocles doesn�t drop anytime soon.

So, let�s see, eh? Went to see Frank Black and the Catholics on Wednesday night, and it was nothing less than rock, which happened to coincide with me really being in the mood for some rock. Great show. My plans to get the Roommate a really good Christmas present were once again foiled by the fact that nobody was selling T-shirts. I even successfully snuck away to get one--even plotted out a deal with the bartender (I had no money) to get $20 in cash in exchange for a really good credit card tip, which I thought was a pretty clever scheme.

Obviously, Thursday night was Thanksgiving, and I had a really great time, like I do every chance I get to see my family. Played football in the street with my brother and two boy cousins after watching the Pats win (televised football on a family holiday is a really good idea--it gives relatives something to discuss when the ideas run out). My dad, my uncles, and I all put in $40 each to get a buttload of lottery tickets--no big winners, but the hoping was fun.

Me and my dad--Bud. Another uncle--Miller Light. My kooky uncle--PBR. The kooky uncle came up (in July, mind you) with the idea of of bringing over a sampler 12-pack, and pouring a little of each beer into small glasses, so we could try them all out. This was the highlight of his night--and he brought a mix by The Shipyard--they do make good beer, but he chose a bunch of British style ales, so we didn�t really get a very broad mix. We tried the ale, the christmas ale, and the IPA, and I was the only person who liked any of them. Then there was a light ale, which was kinda hysterical--it tasted just like Bud. All the mass-brewed lager drinkers thought it was great.

Now here�s a beer I can actually drink!

It�s OK. I wouldn�t buy it again, but maybe I�d order it in a restaurant.

I went to sleep in a reclining chair, and my ma woke me up at 7:00 the next day. She countered my reluctance with if you�re gonna drink with the boys, you gotta get up with the men. I wonder how many times she used that line on my dad.

She made me scrambled eggs and coffee! And gave me orange juice and a bramble!

My dad dropped me off at the Cosby Brownstone a little later. As we said our goodbyes, I put my leftovers in my fridge, and shortly thereafter I was on a bus to work.

The Roommate and I both felt like going out Friday night, so after work and some tasty leftovers, we escorted each other to the Abbey, to see In/Out and The Sin Crowd. Rock, rock, rock.

I don�t know what I liked better--marquee Frank Black rockin� it out at packed Avalon, or gritty rock combos at the even grittier and relatively people-free Abbey. I just can�t make up my mind.

After a seven-hour Saturday shift, the Roommate met up with me at work, and we went to her friend J.�s new Beacon Hill pad, and sucked down a few buds as we watched the tail ends of both the Princess Bride and Charlie�s Angels. I miss cable. We split before we got sucked into the Graduate, but believe you me, it was pretty hard to peel our eyes from the screen, and ourselves off that comfy, comfy couch.

The Roommate recited all the lines to The Princess Bride, with 75% accuracy.

We pub crawled from that place on the corner of Charles and Cambridge (not the 7�s, NOT Cheers--the other one). Pssst! $3.00 16-oz Bud bottles, and $2.00 Bud drafts. Pass it on...

Charlie�s in Harvard, and from there, back to the Abbey, hoping to see the Vicelords. No dice, but a few more beers, and a freezing walk back to the Cosby Brownstone, where I woke up this morning, happy.

Found a site that has every Beatles album transcribed, and spent the early morning playing guitar and singing. Beatles? Why not?

Made myself and the Roommate some leftovers ham (in the frying pan, with olive oil!), iced coffee for me, tea for her, dropped off the rent check, and walked the rest of the way up Highland to Davis, where I got a really cool hat at Pluto. It was only $22, which stunned me into buying it, and I�ve actually been in secret search of a classy hat that doesn�t scream hipster, balding, or Michael Stipe for two years now, so I would have kicked myself for another two if I didn�t blow the cash then and there.

Anna�s Taqueria, and picked up some supplies for my secret gluehwine recipe (for the Christmas party). Got home, and made a test batch. My dear sweet lord. My dear sweet lord. My dear sweet lord above.

If you�re reading this, you�re probably invited--just you wait. Just you wait to taste my secret gluehwine recipe.

Hung up some more pictures, too. My S., from the Big Company summer boat cruise a year or so back, my dear friend H, in her Stegosaurs T-shirt, with sunglasses, at a Little Caesar's, and an old French fantasy postcard of two people with huge butterfly wings kissing.

Watching the Simpsons right now, drinking the rest of those Shipyard ales, �cause nobody else wanted �em, wearing my pretentious hat like a ninny in a silly hat.

Yay.