I have a persistent cough that I've had for about the last three weeks. It sounds like a Volkswagen is going to come out of my lungs at any moment. I could be doing more to heal it up, but I'm sort of going with the flow of what's going on right now, which means I spend several nights a week out, at the moment, most of them with a cocktail or five in hand.
This weekend I went to see this band called Deadbeat Darling, twice. Great shows, both times. At the first show - which was at a small, dark venue on the LES, I texted my best friend from high school because the ninetys-ish sound they have going reminded me of when we used to chase bands around all weekend, every weekend, in my 1968 bug. I got nostalgic. I miss hanging out with bands - and being in one. I miss live music and I get all stoked when I have the chance to do something I used to do regularly and really love - especially when there is a personal connection to the band, via the person who introduced them to me.
On the way home last night, after many delicious and expensive drinks involving various iterations of whiskey, I found a phone in the cab I was in. I grabbed it, because it was a really nice droid phone and it would suck for someone to lose it. I waited. Predictably, it blew up with someone calling repeatedly at 1:30am, while I was washing my face. When I finally got to it, I thought the girl was going to burst into tears. I had pegged it for a guy's phone, because the bottom was cracked and it had no cover, and girls are usually more careful with their things. She's meeting me at 10:30 tomorrow morning, to pick it up. This was my good deed for the weekend.
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