I did not take a picture of Johnny Two-Lips. I was tiiiiiiiired. I had to hit the apartment before going home for the plants (which were not dead, although our very last pirate fish (he had his eye eaten out by other fish, which is how we obtained three "pirate fish"), Tail-Chasing Tom, died over the weekend just before moving out. I was not surprised, he had to be on his last legs), and get some bits out of the fridge (ok, my chipotle sauce for my fried pickles). The power was still on, so who the fuck knows what goes on in that crazy little world known as Green Mountain.
And by the time I hit the highway, I discovered to my ignorant chagrin that there was a fucking homegame for the Cowboys. I cannot stand American football and now I have to pass by Texas Stadium to get home. Curse fucking American football and especially the goddamn Cowboys. It was so depressing to see not only how many people were desperately trying to get there in time, but how many thousands of cars were already there. I do not thank my lucky little stars enough that D is not a sports fan.
Got home and had to explore the grocery store. VERY excited that Arlington at least sells beer and wine. Have to go to Fort Worth for liquor, but that's hardly as pressing as my wine and beer needs. Not only does Kroger have great selection and oh nelly, I love me some Arlington beer prices, but Kroger is even cheaper than standard Arlington beer prices. Kirin Ichiban 6-pack, $5.99. Yeah, baby.
Finally home. Disgruntled to realize that I have also already seen disc 2, season 2 of House, M.D. and I apparently just need to get online to figure out where the fuck I WAS when I stopped watching. On the plus side, however, there is a special feature on disc 2 in which Dr. Cameron and Dr. Cutty re-shot a scene Valley Girl style. It was great; one moment in particular made me laugh out loud.
And I must, must remember that season 3 starts next Tuesday. The previous residents' cable, which they seem to refuse to cut off, had better fucking include (I can't believe I'm about to say this) Fox. I hate Fox. I'm shocked they didn't cancel House, M.D. and I kinda hate that I must watch their crappy little channel.
As we ramble on directionlessly, my other show, Studio 60 On the Sunset Strip, airs tonight (I'm guessing due to the holiday), and while I've already seen the pilot via Netflix, I do plan on tuning in on regular basis Monday nights at 10pm. Conveniently, the show D wants to watch, Heroes, is on just before. It actually sounds intriguing, I admit. I also feel a bit like I need a bath. Having been an anti-TV snob for so long, a tiny piece of me seems to have died and/or been yuppified upon the purchase of a home.
Mondays--Heroes, 9pm (premieres Sept 25)
Studio 60, 10pm (premieres Sept 18)
Tuesdays--House, M.D. (same bat time, same bat channel, sept 5)
Wednesdays--Lost, 9pm (Oct 4!! Plenty of time for me to cram in season 2 on DVD)
Jesus Christ, ER is seriously still on? Season 13! Balls. I gave up on it (season 6? 7? cough, cough) when I left Japan. What happens in Tokyo, stays in Tokyo. But then look, The Simpsons are starting up season 18 and 60 Minutes is on season 39. So hey. Oooh, and Desperate Housewives is only on season 3? I could conceivably cram in season 2, but it's such shit. Not sure I could make the effort to tune in weekly. It does much better when I can pack it all in marathon-style. Otherwise it occurs to me what shit it is. Had this problem last night as we hunkered down with disc 1 of season 2. Been so long since season 1, I'm quite aware of how shit it is. But I can already feel it sucking brain power, my senses are numbing (though I still loathe the Teri Hatcher character and want her dead), and I'm sinking into the bog once again.
We seem to be getting back into our normal morning routine: I wake up and Bourdain follows me around and as soon as the shower's off he hops in and laps up as much water as he can (including from the tap). He even wags his tail. Mouchette can be found by the best window, contemplating whatever it is cats contemplate. I realized this this morning, as I wondered where Mouche might be. Where is the best window in the house?, I asked myself. Oh, the bay window at the kitchen sink. I knew it would be a future issue the first time I looked at the house. Needless to say, kitchen counters really aren't kitty places, but it is a nice window. Hard to blame him. Sure enough, there he was. I think Mr. Mouche and I are going to have to find another window for him.
The other morning I told my boss I thought it was officially the start of autumn. It was 68F when I left the house in the morning and upon entering Starbucks, they have once again unleashed the pumpkin spice latte. I treated myself. It's no gingerbread latte, but it'll do. Later that day, he tells me now, he was coaching volleyball and one of the other coaches came up to him and said, "I think it's autumn! Starbucks has the pumpkin spice latte!" I found it terribly funny and a little embarrassing on my part. That's Dallas for you. How the hell else are we going to know.
On the dark side of the pumkinness, however, I purchased their pumpkin cream cheese muffin this morning. Sounds good, looks good...but upon smelling it, I realized I had made this same terrible mistake last year. I bit into it, just for fun, and sure enough...it's still shit. How do you screw that up? It's really nasty, though; I even had to spit out my bite. Avoid at all costs.