no posts since friday makes mark a dull boy. no posts since friday makes mark a dull boy. no posts since friday makes mark a dull boy. no posts since friday makes mark a dull boy.

i sat on my ass the majority of the weekend, doing nothing. i hung out with chimi, hazel, and murphy this weekend while josh and carly were in miami.

friday night, slick and jenny came over and we watched mallrats. jenny had to leave early, but slick and i stayed up till 2:30 watching all the extras on the dvd. it was exhausting.

saturday. saturday. nope, nothing happened on saturday.

sunday? sunday was erica day. i believe she relates the day's events much better than i ever could. very comprehensive indeed. it was a great day out and about. the wolfgang laib exhibit was one of the most interesting temp exhibits i've seen at the dma. i would recommend that everyone go see it, but sadly sunday was the last day of the show. alas.

so, yeah, i cooked...what's it to ya?
honey-mustard breaded baked swordfish ala moosewood, with brown rice, shitake mushrooms and honey-mustard glaze (ala chimchim). booyah!
so rather than try one of my own creations, i went for a recipe book. this was a wonderfully easy dish to prepare and tasted absolutely amazing. it once again made me itch to take cooking classes and become a chef somewhere. i didn't itch enough to go and sign up for these classes, just a little itch that was quickly scratched and only left little red lines on the skin as proof. i don't get to cook like that unless i'm entertaining because it is cost prohibitive for one, but i do enjoy it when i can.

film at eleven
i have been thinking of late about this blog and the things that i say here. different people use their blog for different reasons. some use it solely as a literary output for fiction while the other end of the spectrum use it to display their most intimate life details with whoever would like to read. i think the majority of them, like mine, fall somewhere in between. there are things about my life that i don't divulge here. perhaps through time these things will eke their way out and onto the page. until now, i have been careful about talking about others in my blogs. and i would not say things about someone on here that i wouldn't say directly to them first.

so my problem is this: i often use this as a means for capturing thoughts as they arrive in my mind. it's about what i think. i'm afraid of sharing certain thoughts about friends on here before i've had a chance to talk to them about it in person. it's this notion of broadcasting feelings before you've told someone how you feel.
e.g. no one wants to find out about a tragedy in their family by watching the evening news. they should know the details first hand before it is filtered out for everyone else to hear.

yes, i'm talking about erica, and the fact that we met through our blogs, and the fact that our fellow blogger friends want whatever juicy tidbits of information they can get. i'm not complaining, i would be interested too. but i'm going to be as discreet as possible.

poor little fella
i have a strong aversion to running over road kill. i think this is a good thing. sure, the squirrel is already dead, but it feels like desecration if you hit it too. part of my problem is that it's just plain gross. i get this mental picture of skulls crushing and guts gooshing (which i have now given to you, dear friend) that makes me whince.

it's sad for me to see a squirrel whos happy little nut-munching life was snuffed out due to a mishap with technology.

i once saw a squirrel nearly meet his/her maker while i was wating to make a turn. i remember the incident in a zepruder-esque flashback of frame-by-frame events. the little guy started on my side of the street, full blast, darting in front of my stopped car, across the median and into on-coming traffic. sensing the danger, wondersquirrel lept into the air full stride, michael jordon style, just as his fate darted his way.his timing was perfect to say the least. his quick reflexes sent him head first into the side of a chevy impala, easily two feet off the ground and just above the wheel well. the whole action-equal-reaction business hurdled wondersquirrel back into the median. he sat for a second, shook his head, turned and ran back to whence he had come. safe. for the moment.

somewhere, in a big oak in virginia, the national squirrel statistics consortiuum has developed a pie chart designating vehicle related deaths as the number-one cause of squirrel fatalities each year.

those less fortunate than wondersquirrel end up part of the parkway. i would imagine most people try to avoid flattening out the poor creature. then, there are most certainly those guys (and they are most certainly all guys) that go out of their way to pound the lifeless body further into the pavement. eventually it will become this thin squirrel-skin pancake and i won't notice that i've even run over it. but as long as its carcass sits above the road, i'm not touching it.