This morning I woke to Bjork's Homogenic. As a wake-up album it was okay, not spectacular. But I do loves me some Bjork. I want to stick her in my pocket and make a little home for her in my skirt.

Last night I saw the School for the Dead show at Harry's. They were very rockin', moreso than usual it seems, though I think I've been seeing them in venues where they have to tone it down a little. I had been told that Henning was on some prescription painkillers so I was watching for some extra goofiness, but he seemed fine, even pulling off the neat trick of tuning his guitar, while singing, in the middle of a song. Max was also back-hurting, due to bailing water out of the basement of the house I sold to him (and I can't stop feeling somehow responsible, like I sold him a lemon). I need to go over there and show him some tricks I learned.

I'm pretty down right now. Now that this blog is linked all over the place, I feel I can't elaborate. But reality is coming home to roost. It's a familiar pain (which makes me feel old), and I know it will mostly subside. It just takes time.