for once, i'm running late and he's on time. a rockabilly saturday night, i'm in a strapless cherry dress, fishnets, and red kitten heels. as i work on my glossiness in the mirror, he surprises me by brushing the back of my hair, and i suck up the sensation like a sponge. he looks rad in a work shirt ("cisco") and mutton chops, and his shorts showcase the pinup girls inked on each calf. i'd swear they winked at me.

blur, moz, and teh mescaleros get us there, but we somehow miss the live music and have to settle for the jukebox. the outfits all around us were fabulous and the night was super cool.

sunday morning (afternoon) is even better. i put on some squirrel nut zippers and we make a huge breakfast while shaking our stingers. we spend teh rest of teh afternoon snuggled up on the couch watching a movie and snoozing. i realize how perfectly weird he is when he says he doesn't want to move because i am "so soft and warm, like a teddy bear...with a vagina." and now my heart is full...

reading thomas mann today: thou isolde, tristan i, yet no more tristan, no more isolde...