Last Saturday
For the past month I've been completely sucked into this Joyce Carol Oates business to, ultimately, good purpose. This past week was the first one that didn't revolve around a 9-5 job at Northwestern followed by a 6-midnight job at Triton. Whew.

Which is to say, I wanted to write about last Saturday since, well, last saturday but to no avail. Not that anything earth-rattling happened that day, it was just extremely good.

I slept in, that was nice. Then I went to the Heartland Café, next door to my house. I had a grilled cinnamon bun (which I'd been looking forward to for quite some time) vegetarian sausage, and a big mug of hot chocolate with whip cream and a shot of espresso. Hell, yeah!

I drove down to The Alley to buy some bright green hair dye, and I stopped to purchase V for Vendetta. I was going to wait until after I'd seen the movie, so as to minimize the disappointment, but I couldn't wait.

I got to the theatre wicked early, in time to put Iron Monkey up on the projection screen. I'd forgotten how amazingly cheesy the dubbed dialogue is in that movie--"He is no match for my Wonder Palm!", &c. I'd almost forgotten how awesome it is, too.

For final dress, the show had been almost a total failure, bits of malfunctioning tech methaphorically raining down around my ears. Last saturday, however, everything worked flawlessly, and I read V during the show.

I got home around 10:30, and decided to watch all of disk three of House. Finally got to sleep at 4am. A good day, ineed.