Let your loss be your lesson

The bulk of the long weekend is over and it's been a good one. The cookout at Tracy and Ray's on Saturday was well worth leaving the city for. Being among an all-star lineup of friends, perfect weather, and an abundance of food and drink -- well, you can't get much better than that.

Scott broke out a couple of guitars, one of which was his new, sleek and buttery Taylor. Pat and I played together at one point, smoothly, in fact, which bodes well for our future collaboration. The lineup is beginning to take shape.

When it grew dark, those of us who remained, and there were still a good many of us, sat around the fire pit and talk about the present and reminiscences of our collective past coalesced into a fine weave. Love these people.

Hung around yesterday in layabout fashion, though I did practice yoga and tackled some laundry. Speaking of yoga, Friday marked my return to it after a longer than intended hiatus, and boy, did my legs feel sore on Saturday. To be expected, and I wouldn't have had it any other way.

In the evening, Mara and I went into Davis Sq. and saw Inglorious Basterds. Glad I saw it again; there were a bunch of things I hadn't picked up on the first time around. I thought for sure Mara was going to sleep through portions of the movie. She had just returned from Florida the night before and shot a wedding a few hours before I met up with her. She looked tired.

Before the movie, we went to Mr. Crepes so she could eat dinner (I had already eaten, in case you're wondering, which I know you were because you care about my eating habits). I could tell by her demeanor, which was bordering on catatonic at times, that the evening might end up being a one-sided affair. Several times during the meal, in response to her unresponsiveness, I asked her if she wanted me to take her home. She replied that she'd be more alert after she finished eating. I had my doubts, but accepted her word. Sometimes she gets like this -- was like this on our first date, even --and, while I don't take it personally, I've taken the nip it in the bud philosophy, which is to say, if you're going to be like this during our time together, we should reschedule, because otherwise, there's no point. Might as well be by myself.

She perked up, though, like she said she would, and managed to stay awake during the film. Frankly, given the fact that it was a Tarantino film we were watching, I would think it would be virtually impossible to fall asleep, but if anyone could do it, Mara could.

After the movie, I asked her what she thought about it. "Oh, I thought it was great. Could have done with a little less scalping, though", she said.

"Wow, we are so different", I said, shaking my head. "See, I was disappointed there wasn't more scalping."

To herald the onset of Autumn, I've been listening to a lot of Sandy Denny's self-titled solo effort and her work with Fairport Convention. Especially her solo album. So good. Can't believe she died so young. That's what falling down stairs will do for you.

On Friday, I finished Abraham's A Shadow In Summer, which was a great read, and surprisingly refined for a first novel. I stopped over at Porter Sq. Books and picked up A Betrayal In Winter, the next book in the quartet. It's been hard putting it down. He's the real deal. While his writing gives a nod here and there to traditional Fantasy tropes, it is one of the most refreshingly unique voices in the genre. Has more of a feel of medieval Asia than medieval Europe, which most Fantasy novels are modeled after.

Today, I plan on working on music, reading, and who knows what else. All after a run, which I'm about to go on once I finish up here. And, guess what? I'm all done with you, so off I go.