This is the nicest day of the year so far.  The weather is perfect, which is probably why I continue the trend of fucking up a good thing.  I did bike down to Lake Calhoun in the morning where I managed most of my morning rituals.  The short story was good.  The theory essay was not so much.  The word of the day is peal.  Because that’s useful.

There was a woman there who looked to be in rough shape.  She was a typical Minneapolis radical: early 20s, waifishly thin probably starving broke, dressed in warm – termperature warm – and dark clothes.  She sat in the sun, in the walkway of the Tin Fish.  A turlte sittign on a sunny deck waiting to be stepped on.  She read something, book held above her face, knees propped up, crotch aimed at those of us in the seating area.  An old lady did ask if she was okay.  She said yes as she played with her Swiss Army knife.  I wanted to talk to her, to learn about the series of poor choices that probably led her to this state.  I wanted to help.  I also did not want to be denied the charity and instead to have the offer turn into a salacious quid pro quo on her part.  That offer happened once.  I steel feel guilty for the pity I felt.

There’s a funeral this weekend for The Swede’s grandmother.  Never met her.  She sounds like my Aunt Mick, who was the coolest person I’ve probably ever met.  Drove to Roseville, had to pick up the suit from the dry cleaners before five.  What else is there to do in da burbs but to watch a movie?  Robin Hood it was.  Then to coffee shop.  But coffee shops out here are unlike the coffee shops at home.  Here they cater to children and the stay-at-home mothers.  Plenty of distractions so the Mommy Blogs can be written.  My preferred coffee shops have distractions so the hipsters blog instead of finishing the novels they’ve been working on for the past year.  Either way, it’s all about enabling.  Nonsense.

Blading at the Roseville Oval later.  Watching the derby kids get their derby on.  Then to fetch some wings and beer.  The Swede does not have to rise at the ass-crack of dawn, so later tonight will be a better night than most Thursdays.  Then a drive to Iowa with her folks tomorrow, so it will be a worse Friday than usual.

The most notable thing I read to-day was Jack Pendarvis’ column in the recent The Believer.  I’m still not sure what was going on.  But it was entertaining enough that I will read it again.  Again again.  “Life sure is funny when you think about it.”  Or so says a skeleton of a dog.

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