It's official: Craig is all moved out. He's back at the Cape with his folks and I wish him luck. He was a good roommate and it's kind of odd not hearing him bustling around in his bedroom. Fortunately for me, Janelle will be moving in soon and Craig will be erased from my memory forever.
My illness never really progressed so I decided to test the waters and go for a run tonight. I feel fine after the fact, but I'm hoping the activity won't make things worse. We'll see.
Ok, I'm getting sleepy, so let's hand out a few more awards.
Best read
Without a doubt, Larry McMurtry's Lonesome Dove tetralogy. I'm almost finished with Dead Man's Walk and will finish the series with Comanche Moon soon after. Simply and elegantly written, profound, tragic, comical, and often brutal, McMurtry can sure spin a yarn.
Best TV show
The Office. Considering it's pretty much the only TV show I watch, this one's a no-brainer. I suspect that if I watched every show out there, I'd still think The Office was the best.
Favorite Baker
Mara. She sure knows how to bake. I've noticed that a lot of people refer to their baked goods as being their famous this or their famous that. Example: "Oh, you're having a Christmas party? I'll be sure to bring my famous brownies." And usually, they taste pretty much like any brownies out there, which is fine, because I like brownies. Mara's brownies, as well as her other baked goods, should be famous, if they're not already ( I haven't done any investigating into this yet). She brought some over to the house one night and Craig, Rich, and I ate some in the living room while watching a game. They were fucking transcendent! Craig and Rich agreed. Everything from the flavor to the overall texture was exquisitly done. And don't get me started on her banana bread. It is to die for, son!
Favorite Baker (honorable mention)
Janelle. Remember those tasty, artistic, cakes I mentioned in my last post? Well, just thinking about them is making me salivate. Mmmm, me want cake. When Janelle is moved in, I will let her know, firmly, that one of the conditions for living here is that she must --- must, damn it! --- bake something nice for me once a week. And she'll also have to keep the fridge stocked with her tasty sangria at all times.
Why Werner Herzog is the master of cinema and beyond, award
Encounters At The End Of The World. It is brilliant. Herzog is brilliant. Just watch it, alright; there's no way I can do it justice, so I won't even try. I think it's time for me to embark on a Herzog film festival. I'll start with Signs of Life and end with Encounters. Before you tell me to get a life, understand that every time you do that my heart breaks a little more.
"Oh, my God, I'm living with a bunch of animals!" award
When I stepped in Rich's doo-doo. I'm about 99.9 % it was him who left the nug on the floor. He missed the toilet by about a foot and I am just about done reliving that fucking gross experience, thank you very much, so let's continue on.
Best album
Fleet Foxes debut. Lush, triumphant, elegiac, and beautiful. I listen to it all the time.
Best instance of laughing my way out of a developing panic attack
I imagined someone saying all the wrong things while attempting to get me to calm down. Like if someone said to me "Here, chug this can of Red Bull; it's the best thing for you right now", that would be a horrible suggestion, you know? Or if they said "There's no way you're going to live through this one, buddy. You. Are. Fucked", I would question their methods and curse them for making things worse. But thinking about someone saying that type of stuff made me laugh, which made me feel much better. Is that reverse psychology in reverse, or.... whatever -- le'ts move on, I'm tired. Good night.
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