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10-21-2003 @ 9:30 p.m.
I Got Laid. (Carpet, That Is)

We have Carpet. I mean, we had carpet before but now we have Carpet. And it is soft. And beautiful. A lovely oatmeal color with flecks of light brown and darker brown and other brownish shades. And it is not the light teal that we there previously. It's wonderful. I love the Carpet. Russell came by to see the Carpet and brought me tacos in a bribe to let him lie down and make Carpet angels. It's hella good. Carpet.

My pappy is coming for dinner tomorrow and I was having trouble deciding what to fix. He's fond of pork roast and all things pork but I seem to make pork-based meals for him every time he comes to visit and even though I happen to have a freezer full of pork (purchased from my nephew who raised 2 pigs this past summer to earn money), I opted to go beef instead of pork. We'll be having a lovely braised pot roast with roasted potatoes, carmelized carrots and onions and a rich, meaty gravy. Wanna eat at my house tomorrow? We're also having banana cream pie. Daddy wants a piecrust primer so I'm going to be tutoring him on the fine art of making pie crust, even though I'm not a crust expert. I mean, it always tastes great and it's very flaky, I'm not very good at handling the stuff. Oh well.

We're having some weird-ass weather here in Oregon. I believe the high temperature in Portland was something like 81 degrees. And the humidity was super high, too. I felt like the inside of my house was damp all day. It was like living in So. Carolina or something. We've been having record-high temperatures for days now while our neighbor to the north, Seattle, has been having record deluges and some rivers are 12' above flood level. It's crazy, I tell you. Surely the last days are here.

Joey has this new ritual--every morning she knocks on my bedroom door and when I answer it, she asks me what the weather will be like for that day. She knows I keep up on the weathe forecast and check it at night before I go to bed. She hates to be over- or under-dressed for the weather so it's vitally important for her to have as accurate a weather forecast as possible. Sometimes, however, the little meteorologist in my computer is wrong and she'll go off to school in the wrong clothes. Then she'll come home and complain that I led her astray, as though I were the one who actually made the faulty weather predictions. I had to set her straight on this matter because I was tired of being blamed for the lame-ass job the national weather service is doing predicting the weather 'round these parts. I found a better weather website so I'm using that one, now, and it seems to be a little more accurate.

Now it's time to go orangify my hair. It has been sorely neglected and my roots are sadly on display for all and sundry to see. And since I'm short, there are a lot of people who can see my poor, neglected roots. And all the nasty white hair that has taken hold on my head. Damn, those white hairs. They suck. I wish I knew who to blame them on--I'm going with my paternal grandfather--he was totally white at 50--and my maternal grandmother who was grey and then white early, also. My other grandparents were both dark-headed for a good long time. I found my first white hair at 22. Twenty two!! It is to weep.

Ciao,

--L

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