About Is My Own
Robert put on coffee this morning. I had a half a bagel for breakfast, and fixed Robert a Cheddar Cheese Omelet. It was all good.
I got to Helios at about 1:00, and the place was jammed. Amelia was there with a couple of her friends, youngsters, one I'm sure had to be family.
I had to sit at the bar for just a few minutes, as there were no tables available at the moment, and there were about four people in line to get coffee. Obviously, this was the place to be this Sunday afternoon.
One of those "high tables" by the window came empty, and I nabbed it shortly before Joe arrived. We had lunch, for which we had to remove our laptops from the table in order to have room to eat. We were scoping for a bigger table during our entire lunch.
In a little while, a dad with his little girl left a nearby, bigger, square table, and we moved to that one, where we spent the next hour or more until Joe's battery ran low. I spent most of that time uploading Joe's holiday CDs, which I'd asked him to bring with him, to my laptop, and subsequently downloaded them to my iPod.
Joe moved over to a table, by the door, with power near it, and before I could move, too, the hottest guy came in, and said, "Do you mind if I share your table?"
Twist my arm. He took the seat across from me, and after about the fourth or fifth time glancing up, and finding not a glimmer of return eye contact, I wrote him off as straight. That's easier than writing him off as gay, but just not interested in me, don't ya think?
Back home, I took an hour nap. I had a dream, not quite on as grand a scale as this one, and in it, at some bar they threw six free tickets to see the Barenaked Ladies into the crowd and I caught them.
My ex-brother-in-law was there, and as he walked by me I said, "You want to go?"
"I don't care for the Barenaked Ladies," he replied and kept walking.
I think in the dream, he was really me, because I don't care for them myself. I'm not really sure why I'm dreaming about winning tickets to see them. Perhaps the name of a group with redundancy in it is what doesn't appeal to me. Essentially, the name means bare bare ladies or naked naked ladies.
Now that I think about it, perhaps that's why I never cared for Duran Duran either. But I digress...
I worked on my final paper for the rest of the night. Good progress.