There is a song called Living For The Weekend. Well, it's the weekend. Here's what I did today so far.

In the early hours I came by here, not wanting to turn on the light in the bedroom and wake my wife. By early hours I mean like 5 in the morning. I wake up early. I wrote comments to whoever. I think I did a post or two.

Turned on Itunes and played the songs I recorded from the 50s and early 60s, all my favorites. My Itunes jukebox is amazing. I just told it to sort by year, and hit play, and it went through them all.

Went back to bed and daydreamed. I'm great at losing myself in daydreams.

At some point, wife woke up. Lights on. She made me scrambled eggs with crackers in them. Did you ever have that? You get egg all over the pieces of crackers.

She went out to do whatever she does, laundry, shop, see her girlfriend Beverly, who knows. I played one of my baseball games. The all time roster of Washington Senators/Minnesota Twins beat the all time roster of Cincinnati Reds by some huge score because the Reds never really had any pitching. Big Red Machine nothing, they suck, one of the worst franchise teams of all time, no pitching. They are tied for last place in my season, even with Pete Rose, Joe Morgan, Johnny Bench, Ken Griffey Senior, Tony Perez, George Foster, and all the other Reds of all time. I think my grandma could have made their pitching staff. So you get 7 runs and you give up 13, what good does that do you?

I put on a Showtime movie On Demand. It was Steve Martin as the Pink Panther. But I fell asleep during it because I was up most of the night, got a few hours sleep, then woke at 5, so this new Pink Panther put me to sleep, which was a good thing. Woke up in time to see the end of the movie, but I don't remember it anyway. Then wife came home and we went out to eat.

Went to Charlie Brown's cause she likes their salad bar a lot. When I go to a salad bar I'm sort of compulsive. I try pretty much everything, just a little. I have 27 different smidges of things on the salad plate. 7 chick peas. And then I eat them one dish at a time, trying not to get them mixed.

Indecisive as I am, I told her to order for the both of us, and went off to the salad bar. She ordered a chicken pot pie and a meatloaf. She started on the pot pie, which she liked better than I did, and I started on the meatloaf which was a lot better than most diner meatloaf. They have a good chef over there. I ate exactly half the portion of meatloaf, which meant one and a half pieces, leaving the rest for her, and ate the mashed potatoes separately.

On the way there, we popped into the local library, I browsed it, looking for a book to read, since in my opinion a library is a pretty good place to find a book. But despite wandering through it for a good while, I couldn't find one book to read. So I walked out empty handed.

But after lunch, we went to a bigger town's library, and we spent some more time wandering around it, and this time I settled on something. It was a book about the kind of small towns that my grandparents and other ancestors lived in, in eastern Europe. I thought I'd be curious about that. Wife got a Tracy Chapman cd, a book about the afterlife which looked like a lot of nothing to me, a book of American poetry that neither one of us will read, and a book by Suzanne Sommers about cooking, which neither one of us will read.

Then at home she put on her Tracy Chapman cd and kept saying how great all the songs were. Meanwhile I was reading an old National Geographic about Arabs in the desert and about something I completely forgot. That's me all over. I'll spend time reading a story, and two hours later I won't remember what it was. I'm not letting this go. Hold on, it will come. Oh yeah, it was about Russians in WW2 sinking a boat with 5,000 Germans fleeing from the advancing Soviet army. There weren't many survivors, but the article interviewed a couple of the 700 survivors.

The Germans were terrified of "Ivan" coming. In one town, "Ivan" raped every single female, regardless of age, and then crucified every one of them on door posts, and clubbed every man and child to death. Ivan was pissed.

As for the Russian ship captain, he was quite a hero for sinking such a big German boat. It was a luxury liner like the Titanic. In fact very much like the Titanic. He sank two of them. But he was insubordinate to the big shots in the Soviet hierarchy, and he ended up in trouble for that reason, and had to quit the service. He didn't end up doing too good. Long after his death, Gorbachev or somebody posthumously declared him a great Soviet war hero. I don't see it. He sank 5,000 wounded vets and 1,000 fleeing civilians at a time when their war was pretty much over anyway, in 1945.

I'd be more into giving him a posthumous award if he socked Goering in the face in 1941.

Then I started reading the book about Jewish life in small towns in Eastern Europe from a long long time ago, and the very first story was an interpretation of six day creation, its target audience being Jewish women who were prohibited from reading the scriptures in the Middle or Dark Ages. I found it to be one of those stories where they say things like - the first letter of the Hebrew Bible is B for B'rayshis (in the beginning) because God wanted the first letter to be a B rather than an A, but he started the Ten Commandments off with an A (alef) and blah blah blah. I hate that kind of stuff. So it starts with a B. I don't friggin give a shit. I hope the stories get better.

Supper will be leftover meatloaf and chicken pot pie and house salad, and whatever else is in the house. I donno. I just sit here and wife brings me whatever.

Later tonight I will go check the internet martial arts sites to see if Antonio Minotauro Nogueira defeats Tim The Klutz Sylvia (I hope he does - I admire his skills and I hope they can compensate for Sylvia's extreme height and weight). What is martial arts for if some big klutz can beat someone who paid his dues to learn how to fight technically.