Howdy readers. I'm feeling pretty great today. I went out a bunch this weekend, which helped distract me from my first dog-less days off. Friday night I went to a show at the Elevens, which I ducked out of to dance to the Drunk Stuntmen over at the Horse. After the bars closed I ended up at an after-party at a hair salon, where I got drunk-shampooed (and drunk-conditioned, luckily). And then we dancercized. It was awesome, as you can imagine.

Saturday I walked to town to load up on corn, potatoes, onions, and lettuce at the farmer's market downtown, came home and promptly took a nap. As an aside, my relationship with my cat - now my only pet - is going through a renaissance. It's like a second honeymoon over here (without the dirty parts). For dinner I got takeout from Amanous and watched some episodes of Curb Your Enthusiasm. Then it was off to meet L at the coffeeshop, where I stupidly got a medium chai. I never drink caffiene at night, and here it was almost 9 p.m. But I knew I was going to fade fast if I didn't imbibe something soon. L and I sat on the courthouse steps and watched people go by. A few of them were people we knew, but we were hidden in a cloak of invisibility; I know I never look over at the darkened stone stairs when I pass the courthouse. Anyway, we met some folks at the Basement, which is becoming like a food-free, alcohol-serving Fire & Water. The caffiene started kicking in and I was all fidgety (more than usual, I mean) and feeling oddly floaty. Eventually we went over to Hugo's where there were some other people we knew. I couldn't stop picking at the label on my beer bottle, and I kept on getting up off my stool.

After last call, I stood outside and did the 1:10 shuffle with a bunch of folks. Then I did the most amazing thing - I walked home. It was lovely. Cool but not cold, with some nice moon action. I walked through tunnels of shrubs and trees and was surrounded by the noise of a thousand crickets. I saw a few other people on their bleary walks home. It was great to be free again.

The next day I went to the mall with L. Somehow our little trip turned into FIVE HOURS. It was crazy. I had slept very little the night before, and I still have no idea what powerful reserves my weak little kitten's body drew upon to help me make it through the treacherous ordeal. But we managed to not pass out or get mall-eyed or anything. It was just good times. A Chicken Ranchero Soft Taco helped me drive home without losing consciousness.

Then it was time to make corn chowder with ingredients from the farmer's market. I used fresh butter-and-sugar corn. It took me like three hours, but the end result was delicious. I foolishly used the faulty big burner on my electric stove. The burner goes from not-hot-enough to way-too-hot with just a tiny nudge. I have yet to figure out where the magic point of combustion is on the dial. So I burned the butter just a little. It was, and is, still fantastic soup. And that's the most any of us should ever ask for really.