Pickle Sandwich™

Beenie invented a delicious new appetizer: the Pickle Sandwich™. Dill on the outside, bread-n-butter on the inside. Truly original, like Beenie. She has a penchant for creating appetizers. The previous celebrated snack was tortilla chip with a dab of hummus and a fancy olive on top. Gluten free! For you and me!

Tomorrow is no work and no school. Me and the ladies will relax in the a.m., possibly eat our weight in blueberry bread and coffee (coffee for me, not them), then troll around looking for a playdate. I have a feeling our fave bagel place is closed. MLK is taken very seriously in these parts, as his teachings should be. Me and Mimi and Beenie have been chatting about him and the good he did for many people. How he was shot. Who shot him?, they ask. That is a hard question to answer. Why was he shot? is also a tough question.

Got extra silence this Sunday a.m. while ladies and gent were at church. Had time to read the Ricky Gervais article in the Times Magazine and also had time to work on one of my dying Black-eyed Susan paintings. It was glorious. Recently unearthed a box of old mixed tapes — the ones that didn’t get trashed from the last house’s basement flood. Listened to a tape from Damon twice, and one side of a tape from Chris. Amazing. I really loved mixed tapes. Why was everyone so happy to replace them with mixed CD’s and jump drives? I’m glad my shitty tape player still works. Analog foreves, yo!

I am fairly sure I beat back the migraine that was threatening my long weekend. Got up early while my head was pounding and spent a half hour twisting out my spine. Not sure what sparked it off this time. Usually it is tied with hormones and that annoying time of the month. I hate headaches. This one better not come back tomorrow. Or the head is going. I’m bagging it up and putting it out for the Monday garbage collection.

There is a book on my bedroom floor, covered in fur, with a set of eyes peeking out from underneath. It is the furriest book I’ve ever had. It is staring at me. It arrived in a mysterious package with another book, and a note from a mysterious person I’ve never met in Berkeley, CA. Isn’t that cool?