Wilco (The Album)

That's what they're calling #7. I like it.


I am standing in the kitchen in some ratty shorts and my Nintendo hooded sweatshirt cooking an egg inside of a piece of bread with a hole torn out of the middle. The butter is what makes it really taste good. Hobbes wants into the kitchen but I am not letting him -- in fact I chased him under the bed as a lesson.

It's 1:48 p.m.

I just cracked the egg beautifully.  Yolk: intact. I am probably getting salmonella all over my keyboard. Sorry, mom.

Out through the living room/kitchen window, I can see a weird tubular train progressing slowly from left to right. It goes out of view of one window and comes back into view in the other. It's a neat effect.

I wrote today, as soon as I woke up, which was a little after noon. I am on page 76 of one chapter/section of this story. It's called "Up and Down", the chapter/section, but I abbreviate it "U + D" at the top of every page. I think I've written, longhand, about 130-150 pages, maybe? Probably a little less. I'm slightly over, or under, halfway finished. That means the finished rough product should be about 280 pages? And if the (rough) average of 377 words per handwritten page holds out, that puts the final story around 100,000 words. Probably not worth it.

One thing I've noticed about Prague is the variety of containers you have at your pleasure in which to bring your milk home. Plastic bottles, plastic bags, cardboard boxes, metal cans, and I believe mini-cow are all common grocery store items. Believe it when you see it!

I cooked this egg too long -- the yolk is more solid than I'd like it to be. Hobbes crept into the kitchen, and when I turned and clapped my hands in his face to scare him away, his paws and claws literally treadmill'ed on the hardwood floor like a cartoon character running in mid-air. Would you believe me if I told you it made the same sound, as well?

I just discovered an onion that Megan had left here which was hidden behind a box of chocolates she also left here. The box of chocolates is the same as it was, but the onion has grown a dozen thick green fingers from its top and looks creepily like some sort of alien sporebomb slowly taking over the kitchen/world.

I am anxious about tomorrow's Trivia Night at the Globe being a complete failure in terms of attendance and me having to basically cancel further nights. Sigh. The book club is a stunning success, though. Hooray! I am going to make my next egg now.

Turns out I'd left the next piece of bread in the skillet on a low temperature, and now it looks like some sort of dried out, skeletal version of itself on one side, and on the other side it is exactly the right amount of crisped. This may work out for the best after all.

I still haven't recovered my harddrive. I will probably try today to do it. There are about one million problems associated with running disc recovery software, but I'll prevail, I'm mildly sure of it.

Last night I created a new Dungeons & Dragons character that looks something like this, and my German friend Simon made one that looks something like this. My name is Kafkaesque, and I'm a morally unaligned paladin, and his name is Eneit, which is the Germanization of the name "Aeneid." He is  a wizard. I created my own deity to follow for this character, named The Rook. This is circuitous reference to Franz Kafka's The Castle by way of chess piece imagery. I still need to work on the actual theology.

Today we'll actually play, I think.

If anyone ever tells you that Sky Blue Sky is not a good album, you punch them right in the face.