Today didn't start out particularly good. I weighed in and I'm only down a half pound.
Devil scale.
But I think I'm getting some definition, and tonight my eyes seemed to be more ... I dunno, in proportion to my head? Not as hidden by my immense noggin?
Worked out after work. I'm up to a full hour on the elliptical. My knees hurt after, so I went for a swim and soaked in the whirlpool before heading home.
My evening? I went with the cutest straight guy in the suburbs to see "Teeth" at the Music Box Theater in Chicago. It's an indie film catagorized as comedy-horror. Unless you have serious Lorena Bobbett issues, you have to find humor in the vajayjay that bites the head that feeds it.
The theater is on Southport. As we were driving, I told Shamie that there was a great Irish pub on Southport but I couldn't remember much about it other than it was next to a small theater. We parked almost right in front of it - it's called Cullen's, and it's next to the Mercury Theater. Anyhoo, loved the movie, loved the crowd, loved the popcorn - big fun. So we were walking to the car and as we passed Cullen's, I said "Hey, there's music!" because two guys were playing guitar in the front window.
"Oh my God, that's Fraker" said Brian.
Seriously. This type of shit can only happen in Maggie's World.
So we went in, hoisted a pint, and enjoyed the feeling of being "with the band." Turns out Fraker really does exist - he's not a figment of Shamie's imagination. They sounded fantastic, and played all kinds of stuff from classic Beatles to Pearl Jam. My pint of Harp's was pretty damn good, too.
A great night, spent with a great friend, completely spontaneous and as close to perfection as you can really expect to get. But I'm out of practice with this whole "out 'til all hours" thing, so I think I'll turn in now.
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