attaining enlightenment

OMG.

It was too, too awesome outside today. The yoga blocks were propping the windows, and the cats fought over the best outdoor-sniffing spots. In the usual me-style, I ushered in spring with the short pants. The day I start wearing capris and shoes with no socks, then it must, by law, stay above 50 degrees permanently. That’s how it should work, at least.

So, here is some more deeply-fascinating weekend news.

Friday night, I took Micci and Catherine to Suzi’s for the first time. Turns out Micci used to work with Sarah, my favorite server girl in the entire universe, in a previous life. Sarah sat with us half the night and made me laugh so hard I couldn’t eat for fear of spitting pizza on the table. She’s married to one of the tattoo artists at Uptown Tattoo, so she reviewed for us the long and sordid history of tattoo-politics in Minneapolis. Also, she showed us all her tattoos in detail, at least as far as decency allowed. Her left arm is a full sleeve depicting a circus freakshow. It was beautiful and stomach-turning creepy at the very same time.

Last night, I saw the Kings of Leon at the Fine Line. I love them. I love Tennessee. I loved the opening band, too, The Features, although they’re one of those bands who’s really great live and their CD gets old after two listens. But I’m only on listen one, so all is well. Anyway, it’s hard not to love a band from Murfreesboro.

While waiting for the show to start, these two guys barged their way up to the front near us and started hitting on anything within shouting distance. Between sets, I pointed out the monstrous arms on this roadie onstage. Creepy dude (who was sure our entire conversation that night involved him) saw his opportunity and piped up with, “Hey, I’ve been working out!” I gave him the overexaggerated thumbs-up, because he was surely a winner. He twisted around and presented his right bicep, saying, “Wanna feel my arm?” I shook my head no and he stammered for several seconds before retreating to his Red-Bull-drinkin’ pal. Now, I can guess why his right arm might be in prime condition, but I’m going to conjecture that it has nothing to do with the gym.

The show rocked hard and the crowd was awesome and not too rowdy, which is good because there’s nothing like getting stomped on by drunk guys wheeling out of a mosh pit. A favorite moment was when he ended Spiral Staircase with, ‘That song is called Dylan Hicks can suck my fucking cock.’ Seems our crabbiest reviewer shredded them in Citypages.

Here is a photo from the show and phone video in that 3gp format, if you can figure out how to play it. Quicktime seems to work.

Today was cleaning, brunch, baking, shopping, baking, flowers, cookies, coffee, stretching, lifting, taxes, Lake Calhoun (I walked out onto the lake from the beach, and found it alarmingly slushy. I figured it was safe because there were other people out there. I’m aware it’s this kind of reasoning that gets everyone in trouble.), baking, dishes, nap, knitting (home), Luce, knitting (Dunn Brothers), and typing this.

And speaking of Lake Calhoun, here are photos of the ice.

While I was typing this, my mom called in a panic. She has some problems with her knee, so she’s been doing physical therapy for a few weeks now.

Also, I wanted to explain to you about my activity for this week, but I don’t think I can make sense of yet. Maybe I’ll tell you when it’s over. It has made me a smilin’ fool all day long, though. I’m on a mission.

Over and out.
Jenni