Gecko Bloggle

So it’s 5 to THREE, and I’m grabbing a cab to unconsciousville in a moment, but wanted to make a few quick observations before today becomes yesterday, and my mental snooze-bar gets slapped, erasing the day.

Tate is great at whatever sport we throw at him, including volleyball, which I thought would be too much for his non-sport-raised three-year-old self, but instead he managed to plaster the ball off the low-ceilinged-part of the gym and offa dad’s head, which brought a well-deserved laugh from all involved.

Arwen gets full points for telling me, mid phone call, that I should go OUT and DO something on a Monday night, because tomorrow is Remembrance Day in Canada, which will (it seems) be remembered this year by a certain non-military-going offspring of an offspring by being hungover and generally not feeling good until after the third or fourth cup of water/coffee.

While neither of my mom’s side of the fam died in a war, they were both there in the mess, I think. That’s a topic for tomorrow, I think.

According to television marketing, there are a lot of people sitting at home, drunk, with credit cards, thinking they’d have company tonight except for that stupid lack of abdominals.

The office is on, if you go up the channels high enough, so not all is lost for society at large in North America.

Note: People still dance. Even to 25+ year old music. Even people who aren’t 25 yet.

The goths dance to all sorts of things, not just the goth stuff. Anything short of Pump Up the Volume, and the goths are suddenly kickin’ it old school.

I don’t feel sick any more, just kinda tipsy, and sleepy.

G’nite.

Oh, and I have a terrible, terrible mustache right now, and it’s all Movember’s fault.