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weekend/life.
This morning, I woke up to drink black coffee and write about Carnegie Mellon’s annual mobot (mobile robot) races — a task I have not yet completed, though I did smoke two cigarettes and spill coffee on my boyfriend’s sweatshirt (double oops).
I wrote/am writing four articles this week — and, though it was/is a little much, I’m still really glad I wrote all of them (except maybe the Board Ed on McCain, which turned out well but didn’t do much for me). How could I turn up commenting on Apple’s assholery (and the way it makes my Mac-love ache), attending an ultra-inspiring lecture on Randy Pausch, or watching adorable little mobots weave around a sidewalk course for cash money? I guess that’s how it goes — life is too good to go undocumented.
Last night I saw a play called Villains, with monologues devoted to 13 of history’s most notorious bad assesses, from Jack the Ripper to Lizzie Borden (who took an axe, and gave her father forty wacks, and when she saw what she had done, she gave her mother forty-one). The monologues were written by 13 different Pittsburgh playwrights, mostly amateurs, and I love that shit. Then I smoked hookah (I guess this is going to be a tame 420), a special blend of honey and berry with a red-wine base (yum).
And this, my friends, is my life. I tend to enjoy it.
