1) From time to time I indulge my posthumous Phil Ochs crush by finding clips of him on YouTube, and I have to pretend I'm looking him up for reasons other than the fact that he's pretty, because then I'd have to acknowledge the nose job he got when he was young which made him way cuter, and then I'd be a horrible shallow person.
2) I'm testing for my brown belt in karate tonight!
3) Dan is coming to visit on Friday, just in time for the heat index to be at 110 every single day for the foreseeable future. Speaking of which, do we still live in Austin? Haven't we moved somewhere with better weather yet?????
4) A while back, in a vague moment of trying to be a better bi and feeling surrounded by straight people, I subscribed to a local bi listserv, which has proven (perhaps unshockingly?) to be a way lame combination of personal ads and people complaining that no one understands them. But I can't quite bring myself to unsubscribe because the truth of the matter is that the only other email I receive at that particular email address is from the Fasola list (national announcement list of Sacred Harp singings, for my non-singer readers playing along at home...), and nothing provides me with greater amusement than finding questions about manscaping and coming out to your spouse interspersed with announcements about upcoming hymn-sings in rural Alabama. It really never gets old.
5) Reason #463 why I am married to a 9-year-old girl: He spent last week researching the care and feeding of bunny rabbits in order to convince me that we should get one. Also, I'm pretty sure that all he wants for Christmas is a pony.
Okay I'm done. Just out of curiosity I wandered the dusty archives of the blog to find out what I was doing in August 5 years ago. Apparently I was busy trying and failing to identify constellations, crying when being made to hike uphill, and watching R eat salami. In conclusion, pretty much nothing's changed since 2005. It's a comforting feeling.
We were surrounded by uninhabited mountains as far as the eye could see, which gave us that nice dark planetarium feel. Between the two of us, we've taken five (5) introductory Astronomy classes, and the only damn constellation we could identify was the Big Dipper (although maybe we've just been looking at the Alaska flag too much). The weekend involved another partial climb up another mountain (if you're assuming that THIS one didn't end up with me in tears, boy were you wrong!), more marmot-sightings, and Richard's consumption of nearly a whole stick of fancy salami in a 48-hour period (he proclaimed himself the only man to go into the bush and return fatter than when he left).