First off, big ups to Kat Hunter. You rule! Thanks muchly.
The weekend totally flew by. There was boxing (X3), a brief party drop-in, karaoke, and a movie. It was all rather pleasant. It’s just that…I guess I don’t feel like I’ve been away from the office long enough. I suppose that’s what happens when I’m actually in the office for more than three consecutive days.
Boxing has been fun. I’m amazed that I haven’t hurt myself yet, though I swear I’m an uppercut away from doing something snap-crackle-poppy to my wrist and going on disability. My right still sucks, but it’s slowly getting better.
Saturday I popped by Will’s party for a bit. His apartment is darling (clearly his wife’s doing) and he has the cutest cat ever. It’s way cooler than that piece of crap Asuka. I’m seriously contemplating getting a t-shirt that says “Asuka Sucks” or “I Hate Asuka.” Perhaps I should get both. Anyway, it was karaoke until 3:00 in J-town (which is nothing like O-town). It was mostly cool. There were some lamers there picking music that wasn’t cool nor crappy enough to be fun. And some chick I didn’t know drank half the vodka I brought–I would have preferred Petey drinking half of it. I’ll have pics later.
After a lovely Sunday on The Hill (boxing/Klein’s/Farley’s), I saw Napoleon Dynamite. It was funny and enjoyably ridiculous, but there was something missing from it that I couldn’t put my finger on at the time. I think it’s that I like movies to A) tug on my easily pullable emotional strings, B) help my get lost in my abundance of silly thoughts, or C) be so vapid that it’s delectable. While I enjoyed the movie, it didn’t do any of those three things for me. That said, I had fun and the company was rather wonderful.