This weekend’s been a mixed bag. On the plus side: I slept some, the cake was really good, my friend Christian is in town, and we got to visit Jes and Eric. The down? Work, work, more work, kid being impossible…the usual.

I got into this completely pointless sort-of argument with my friend this afternoon about a mutual friend who had killed himself years ago, and seriously, why do I not just keep my mouth shut about stuff like this? It’s not anyone else’s fault that I have an irrational pet peeve about canonizing the dead. It’s not helpful to point out that maybe the deceased wasn’t the stand-up guy everyone seems to (now) refer to him as. (You can tell I’m upset because my sentence structure has gone all to hell.)

So I feel kind of bad about that, and even worse about the fact that I drank wine, because now my head hurts and I have no one to blame but myself.

But: there were chickens.

ellison and chicken