Monday has been vanquished.
This day, the one generally voted as the worst day of the week, is at an end.
It is evening. I have a steaming hot mug of Community™ Café Special® coffee beside me and an open package of McVitie’s Fruit Shortcake cookies (or, as they are known in their country of origin … biscuits).
I’m already in my pajamas. I’ve got the Rippingtons’ Moonlighting album on the ol’ headphones.
I’m cracking my knuckles and doing some deep knee bends to get me ready to do a bit of writing.
But first, I thought I’d do whatever this is. Warming up? Blathering? Rambling?
It’s hard to say.
But it’s better than just staring off into space and drooling. (Barely)
On Being Promoted to Brunch Manager
It was a nice weekend. Saturday I did next to nothing in the productive category. I had good intentions, but the distractions were stronger than my intentions, as they most always are.
There was Saturday brunch at a local cafe. It was quite nice! it is a “Southern” or “Texan” type of cafe, so I could order chicken fried steak and eggs if I wanted to. But I didn’t want to.
I stuck to my old standby: eggs (over medium), grits, bacon, toast, and coffee. It is imperative that the yolks be runny so that they will mix well with the grits.
And by the way, you can tell if a cafe is legit Southern or not by whether they have grits on the menu or not. Even if they do, most of them just have instant grits. If you ever order grits in a restaurant and they tell you it’ll take about 30 minutes to prepare them, then you have wandered well off the beaten path, far south of the Mason-Dixon line, and are in a true Southern restaurant.
Keep an ear out for banjo music playing in the distance.
A Shod in the Dark
After brunch, I had was forced at gunpoint to go buy a new pair of shoes.
Not that there’s anything wrong with my old pair of sneakers, but I made the mistake a few weeks ago of saying that they were getting a bit long in the tooth.
I could tell they were worn out, because their tongues were hanging out! Ha ha ha! (I stole that joke from my Weekly Reader in the 5th grade. They’ve never asked for it back.)
But I hate buying sneakers with a deep, burning passion. Nothing ever fits me right. The ones that fit, look hideous. The ones that fit and don’t look hideous are outrageously priced. Some look good with jeans, but not shorts (and vice versa). I am not good at picking out which socks go with which kinds of shoes.
In short, there are too many choices, and so whenever I shop for shoes, I usually blue-screen within the first 5 minutes. And so the only way anyone can get me to go buy a pare of shoes is under a threat of violence.
But after looking in several stores over the course of about 2 hours I found a pair that didn’t suck. I’d let you know if I like them or not, but I haven’t worn them yet.
Playing to the Galleria
Later that same day, a decision was made to go to the Galleria. Not by me, of course, but still …
I don’t mind the Galleria. As malls go, the Dallas Galleria is very nice. It feels upscale, but is affordable (mostly). It has a very cosmopolitan feel, with people from all over the world shopping there.
We had dinner at the Mi Cocina Mexican restaurant with a view of the ice skating rink and the three levels of shopping above us. Mi Cocina is a very good restaurant. They have the best chips and salsa of any Mexican restaurant in the area. The chips are very crispy, but are thick and have enough structural integrity to scoop up even the thickest guacamole. The rest of the food is very good, too.
The rest of the mall is, as I have said, very nice. But, alas, there is nothing for me there but the joy of walking around it. All of the stores that I used to love have long since expired and their spaces filled with stores that I care nothing about.
The biggest loss to me was the “Shakespeare Beethoven &Company” bookstore. It was the most beautiful bookstore I have ever been in. It was relatively small, which gave it a very cozy feel. There were only 2 or 3 racks of CDs, almost all of which were classical or jazz or international. The entire perimeter of the store was bookshelves, with a few other tables and shelves thrown in for additional books. And the books were not usually whatever was popular at the moment. They sold classics and books from great thinkers and academic type books and great fiction. They even had a Penguin section! That is where I spent most of my time (and disposable income).
The people who worked there were dressed nicely, spoke well, and were very knowledgeable about their stock and about books and music in general.
But, alas, they folded up their tent and disappeared probably 15 or 20 years ago. My heart has never recovered.
So too did all of the other stores that I cared anything about disappear. The stores that sold educational toys and telescopes and science experiment kits and books about how things worked … they all disappeared.
So now, whenever I go to the Galleria, it is just to people-watch and to reminisce about when I used to be a desirable and targeted demographic. Ironically, I have a lot more disposable income now than I did then, but there are no stores there I care to spend money in.
The Sounds of Silence
On Sunday morning, I posted my latest Alistair and Alexis story.
As with most of my A&A stories, the reviews were good, but readership was light.
I tried something slightly different in this story. I tried to give it the flavor of a screwball comedy. I mean, most of my A&A stories are, in a way. But I tried to make this one almost over the top.
Maybe it was too over the top.
Going Out With a Whimper
I spent the rest of Sunday trying to catch up on all the things I did not get done on Saturday. So, I was able to end the weekend feeling a little bit better about bringing a small amount of order to the chaos that reigns around me constantly.
Fighting ordinary, everyday chaos does not make for a very exciting life, but it lessens the odds that one will end up on an episode of “Hoarders”.
Enjoy your week! I hope you are able to keep the chaos at bay.