Well I feel like a dumb-ass. I just paid $3.99 for a bottle of cranberry juice at the Co-Op. OK, cranberry juice blended with some sort of antioxidant tea, but still. Normally I look at prices and all, but .... anyway, I was too flabbergasted and embarrassed by my own lack of financial savvy to tell the cashier that I didn't want her stinkin' $4 beverage.

It was good though. Kinda zingy.

Coming off about 2 weeks of blah-hell. Well, I don't know if I'm coming out of it, but I'm giving it the ol' college try for whatever that's worth.

I just wish the Kings would win a game already. We've got tickets to Sunday nights game and it'd sure be nice if the team showed up to the party.

So, the Fiery Furnaces show. That was my second time seeing them (first time was last February at Bottom of the Hill) and I have to say I was pretty disappointed. I think if I had maybe not seen the band before, I would have been more OK with it. But as it stands, I was supremely bored with all the relentless noodling. Sure, every now and then we were treated to snippets of melody but the rewards were few and far between and, frankly, I just got the vibe that Ms. Eleanor has pretty much become the Hipster-Than-Thou type that sets my nerves on edge. That and Harlow's was just crawling with all those Farrah Fawcett-Majors-haired pale-faced girls who look drugged out and act like snots.

But, whatever.
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I recently finished a great book that I think you should all pick up. Wendy McClure of Poundy fame just published her memoir, I'm Not the New Me. It is part weight-loss journal, part relationship encounters, part life reflections but mostly it is just achingly funny and heartbreakingly melancholy and a very fast, mesmerizing read.

Alrighty, I'm off to LA tomorrow - just for a very quick 24-hour-plus work trip. Until then...