people walking down hallways yelling things
This morning I saw a fat squirrel. It was awesome, running on its stubby little legs.
The other day I walked farther than normal on the walking path a few blocks behind our office building, and discovered that there is a cemetery there. I really like this path; I believe it is technically a bike path but I always see people walking on it at lunchtime. There are all these dramatic trees hanging overhead, and piles of leaves, and before Halloween there was a pumpkin patch back there. It's charming and lovely and really calms me down in the middle of a hectic day. One of these days I'd like to just keep walking and see how far it goes, find the entrance to the cemetery maybe, but probably not during my lunch break.
Last night I bought seltzer and milk and made egg creams at home. Not being in New York and not having the right sort of syrup, I was pleased to discover they still turned out yummy, fizzy and addicting.
Later last night, I attempted to watch a Bradley Whitford movie that came up on my Netflix. Cloned, it's called. This alone should have been a clue. Anyway, the first thirty seconds were so face-stompingly stupid that I had to turn it off before he even showed up onscreen. Christina came home and, after being subjected to a diatribe about the cinematic masterwork I'd just shut off, suggested we watch Studio 60 On The Sunset Strip. (She was a Brad fan before I even knew who he was, and I got her the DVDs for her birthday.)
I mixed up another egg cream - possibly my fourth - and we watched the first two episodes. I did see a few at Adam and Karla's when it was on the air, but that was completely out of context and before I was a raving mad Sorkinite. The episodes we watched last night were funny and enjoyable and very, very Sorkiny. And Brad is hot. And I enjoyed the Network homage very much.
The phones keep going haywire at work today.
I can't believe it's not even two yet. Well, okay. Now it is.
The other day I walked farther than normal on the walking path a few blocks behind our office building, and discovered that there is a cemetery there. I really like this path; I believe it is technically a bike path but I always see people walking on it at lunchtime. There are all these dramatic trees hanging overhead, and piles of leaves, and before Halloween there was a pumpkin patch back there. It's charming and lovely and really calms me down in the middle of a hectic day. One of these days I'd like to just keep walking and see how far it goes, find the entrance to the cemetery maybe, but probably not during my lunch break.
Last night I bought seltzer and milk and made egg creams at home. Not being in New York and not having the right sort of syrup, I was pleased to discover they still turned out yummy, fizzy and addicting.
Later last night, I attempted to watch a Bradley Whitford movie that came up on my Netflix. Cloned, it's called. This alone should have been a clue. Anyway, the first thirty seconds were so face-stompingly stupid that I had to turn it off before he even showed up onscreen. Christina came home and, after being subjected to a diatribe about the cinematic masterwork I'd just shut off, suggested we watch Studio 60 On The Sunset Strip. (She was a Brad fan before I even knew who he was, and I got her the DVDs for her birthday.)
I mixed up another egg cream - possibly my fourth - and we watched the first two episodes. I did see a few at Adam and Karla's when it was on the air, but that was completely out of context and before I was a raving mad Sorkinite. The episodes we watched last night were funny and enjoyable and very, very Sorkiny. And Brad is hot. And I enjoyed the Network homage very much.
The phones keep going haywire at work today.
I can't believe it's not even two yet. Well, okay. Now it is.