Our guitars arrived on the UPS truck yesterday, and so when Brian and I got home we tuned them up and messed around a bit. Brian is already much, much better than I am, and I have always been a learn-by-ear musician, even when I could read music, so it will take me awhile. It’s still fun though. My fingers are delicate little flowers and I need callouses.

Work is going to get a lot busier at the end of this month, which will be welcomed by me.

But the slowness has made time for me to work on my “book,” which seems to be going well. Today it occured to me that if motherfucking Nicole Richie can “write” a “novel,” then logically I should be able to sell this thing with absolutely no problem. Right?

ha ha ha

Last night I dreamed that Christmas was only a few days away and I hadn’t done any shopping at all.

I also read an issue of “Everyday Food” before I went to sleep and marked the pages with the tuna and grape salad and the almond strawberry shortcakes. Mmm. I should really pick up some artichokes this weekend. I haven’t even had any this season yet.

This weekend: clean house, writing, dinner at Tamara’s, put ad on craigslist to sell the coffee table, buy a couple of leather cube ottomans to replace coffee table. Which, ugh, happens to have been my original plan two years ago when we moved into our place. Oh well. I would also love a set of these for our dining room. It’ll have to wait, probably.