Have fun, don’t drive drunk, and yadda yadda yadda….
Didn’t the solar new year begin on the 22nd? I got a Lord of The Rings calendar for Christmas which will begin its life shortly. I will retire (BUT KEEP) my 2011 Edward Gorey calendar.
People always buy me the awesomest calendars.
I’m staying home and sober tonight, having gotten pretty smashed on Thursday. I can’t much drink but once a week these days. I’m going to watch movies and bake bread and drink tea and be lame. It sounds like a blast :)
I went to a bar, an “Irish pub”, and drank German beer, because the Irish are good for nothing unless we’re talking whisky.
Which I wasn’t.
I tried to work on my story and I got an important conversation down and then I got a call from THE WAX BANANAS. They were doing a year-end show along with all the other local punk bands.
So I went to that.
I was pretty buzzed at that point. SKULLETS, the DIY punk rock venue here in town has no booze license, so it ain’t legal to drink there. Thus, there’s a lot of plastic Pepsi cups full of vodka.
We do what we can.
Fun was had. I didn’t mosh, though I came close. I watched the youngsters mosh, though, and they did well.
I was proud of them.
Then I went to a bar, and I was drinking there, and smiling, and realized I couldn’t drive. I am all old and seriously against drinking and driving. New Year’s Eve is just around the corner…don’t do it. It ain’t worth it and is truly WRONG.
There are people in the world, regular people, going about their shit, buying groceries or whatever, and they shouldn’t have to worry about your drunk ass running them over.
Tonight I got a cab. I am a responsible adult. Fuck yeah :)
A dip. Or a spread. Here, smear it on the bread. See?
What is it again?
Why is it brown?
It’s not. It’s beige.
What is it?
What’s in it?
Chickpeas mainly. Plus a little garlic, salt and pepper, cumin, lemon juice.
What are chickpeas?
They’re…I don’t know. They’re chickpeas.
I thought you said it was hummus.
It is hummus. I made it from chickpeas.
What are chickpeas then?
They’re a bean, a legume, a pulse, something like that. I’m not sure offhand.
Wait! They’re garbanzo beans. Yeah.
I thought it was hummus. Didn’t you say it was hummus?
It is hummus. It’s made from garbanzo beans.
I thought you said it was made from chickpeas.
It is. Chickpeas are another name for garbanzo beans.
So it’s a pea and a bean?
At the same time?
Versatile? I thought you said it was hummus.
It IS hummus.
So you invented it?
No, it’s a Middle Eastern food.
Yep. Happy Hanukkah.
But it’s Christmas.
Indeed it is.
Try some. It isn’t toxic.
No, thanks. I don’t eat anything that’s brown.
But you’re drinking a Pepsi.
I said EAT.
Well, hummus is nummy.
Hummus? That’s what it’s called?
Yeah. It’s Martian food.
I thought you said it was chickpeas.
Nope. Martians came down in their spaceships and gave it to me.
Well, I’m definitely not eating it now.
Good. More for me. What time is it? I gotta be getting back…
81 years old, I believe. Her name is LaVonne, but she’s always been called Bonnie. When she was a little kid, her tiny brother couldn’t pronounce “LaVonne” and instead called her “Bon”, which morphed into Bonnie, and that is what she has been known as for 70 some years.
I remember, very vaguely, her 50th birthday party.
She is a ginger and is riddled with Alzheimer’s and doesn’t know me anymore. Kind of, but not really. At our Christmas party yesterday, the guitar came out and we had some live music, which isn’t that unusual at our family gatherings. She wanted to dance, so I put my arms around her and we danced.
She was so tiny and frail. I worried about breaking her. “I haven’t danced for years,” she told me.
I hadn’t either, it turned out.
I wrote this last year. She has since moved on. I miss her.
Won’t be on until the 26th, late, if then. You will yearn for me tragically, huh?
I have been up since dawn, doing shit. I made a baguette to go along with my hummus, which I also made. This will be my nibble that I bring for the Christmas Eve gathering. Everyone’s bringing nibbles and this will be my contribution.
Also, I am drinking a bottle of this Erdinger Dunkel beer and I notice that there is yeast in it. I am mulling over how to harvest it. Imagine: me with German yeast. There would be no stopping me.
I still have to wrap presents, which I despise because I am so bad at it. Two year olds can do better. Thus, I procrastinate and procrastinate and procrastinate.
And I have to leave in, like, two hours. Shit.