"Did he just say 'licky me'?"
Now Playing: Brian Eno--"Here Come The Warm Jets" (at Shaman Drum, anyway)
Well. Hrm. This is the sound of me eating my words.

Yesterday was unbelievable. I ran into Emily on Liberty Street on my way home from work and she explained that she didn't have a phone anymore and my number had been lost with it, and that she was still very interested in getting together. Since I've lost phones before, and since I had voicemail trouble the first week after she left Cafe du Jour and asked me to call her, I really can't say anything. I'm just unusually not unhappy right now. I'm gonna call her tonight and basically completely ignore my previous post, as I hope she does if she ever comes here. I'd delete it, but I don't really believe in doing things that way.

I watched Alan Pakula's conspiracy classic The Parallax View (1974) last night, but it did nothing to dent my mood. There's an awesomely trippy "corporate orientation"/mind-control sequence for people who enjoy that sort of thing. In any case, I think all the nasty stuff that happens to Warren Beatty in the movie is just cosmic retribution for his hair.

This morning was fantastic, too. I logged about seven or eight miles, following the course of the Huron in a ragged sort of fashion through the Arb, along Fuller Road, Riverside and Bandemer Parks, and then back again down North Main. It was supposed to rain cats and dogs this weekend, but it's been clear sailing for the most part. I carried my umbrella all day yesterday and probably looked like an idiot, but I surely would have managed that anyhow without the brolly.

Yesterday wasn't all fun and games, though--Eddie Albert died, so raise a glass to his memory if you've a soft spot for the man. I've never actually seen "Green Acres," but I'll always treasure his performance as the sleazy, corrupt warden in The Longest Yard (1974). I had no idea that he was so old (99) or any inkling of his wartime heroism at Tarawa. Happy trails, Eddie.