I spent a part of the afternoon organizing imp. grown-up paperwork things, like insurance and marriage cert. copies and banking receipts and home warranties and etc. Taxes are coming up soon, the one day of the year you can count on me to cry. I hate doing taxes. It intimidates me.
Then I ventured out in the new snow to have dinner and beers with old friends and their new wives and talk about everything and nothing, and now one of said friends head back to Chicago. They are older and wiser and better-looking then the beer-bloated 23-year-old thems I remember, and I love them and they are good people.
Stars and Magnet have sold out for the 24th @ BC. I was all ready to be uppity and pissed off that MAGNET (wtf?) sold out, and then I realized they were playing with Stars, and well: people seem to like Stars. So I am less mad-mad now, and more just slightly grumpus instead. Magnet's "Lay Lady Lay" cover w/ Gemma Hayes was one of my most favorite songs my very knowledgable friend Mike from NC sent me in 04. (This is what you do: stay friends with dudes who love music, and love sharing music, and their love will return unto you threefold or whatever. Mike sends excellent, thoughtful mix CDs via the USPS.)
Anyways, instead, go listen to this. 1950's window shopper/pocketbook/crinoline/shoop-shoopity-shoop indeed. On tour with Magnolia Electric Co. March/soonish.
I am doing laundry, cleaning the bathroom, re-watching the last episode of Arrested Development ("don't be such a Judge Reinhold.") My mother invited herself over for chili later, since we are bad kids and do not visit or call or provide these older folks with enough love/attention/devotion in their advanced and degrading age. My father's coming too, but he does not seem to be as concerned with why we don't love him anymore.