Here comes a bad word as an adjective, and its root is repeated as a noun four sentences later.
Yesterday was just a really shitty day. I had a headache. I couldn’t get into my website. I had to go to the mall because Meredith needs a dress. Some crazy shit went down at the pretzel place. I locked myself in a dark garage (on purpose) for an hour because I couldn’t bear to see or hear people or dogs. Xanax.
Ah, but today? Today was good. I ate a waffle with my mom. I went over to Tempe’s place to knit and watch Hinterland. I ate a falafel gyro and drank what I believe was my first soda in over a year. (Diet Dr. Pepper!)
People, get ready. There’s a train coming.
Back in May, I ordered two books. BOTH of them published today, and both of them were in my mailbox when I got home from Tempe’s place.
It’s To Kill a Mockingbird as a graphic novel (I hate the red “A GRAPHIC NOVEL” circle on the cover) and I have no idea how to feel about it. Yet. I will surely have opinions. Eventually.
I go way back with Beastie Boys. I was quoted one time in my high school newspaper, and that quote was about me wanting to quit school and go on tour with Beastie Boys. When Prince released Purple Rain in 1984, my world was changed. When Beastie Boys’ Licensed to Ill was released in 1986, everything in my life was classified as “before I heard Licensed to Ill” or “after I heard Licensed to Ill.” I’m 20 pages in and absolutely loving the book. It feels like Christmas.
Tomorrow is Halloween. Not my favorite. BUT, it will feel good knowing that Joe Biden is in town. (I *know* you don’t like him. Just let me dance, okay? We should all be able to dance without fear, right? Even children of non-citizens who were born on US soil.)
We got determination—bass and highs.
White Castle fries only come in one size.