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Not that I'm a member of any. But if I WAS. ...




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Awoke this morning to a fucking monsoon outside. And its cold again. Scott is ever cheerful and thinks the flowerbeds will be "easier" with the ground "soft" now. "We'll just put on some polypro, it'll be nice," he says. FYI, polypro? Is the SAME STUFF HE WEARS TO GO SKIING IN.

Am not optimistic.

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Today's suggested reading material: Texts Without Context. Also check out the piece at the NYT about curators in their thirties, like its somehow shocking that we're not all boring graybeards.

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This post has been brought to you by working brunch at the Village Cafe where it is warm and comfy.




ETA: Aha, I see lj is thwarting my tags, the latter of which should read "i am not now nor have i ever been in a book club." F-U, LJ!

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