verbicide | happy friday indeed

Today was pretty damn awesome. Jeff was in a particularly frisky mood and was somehow even more adorable and fun than usual. I have no idea how that's even possible. Work ended with an impromptu celebration with champagne and truffles.

And then there was the concert. Sarah and I met up with Chris and Jeff for some drinks at the Pike Place Pub (or something to that effect) beforehand and we timed it perfectly, getting back to The Showbox right as The Decemberists were starting.

The Decemberists were fucking spectacular. I've loved the cd Sarah gave me, but their concert was exponentially more awesome than I expected. They were so cute, so bouncy, and so excited to perform—which they did very well. The Showbox is a small enough venue that it was just a blast. Now if all the alarmingly tall people with broad shoulders could just step aside. Especially the guy with Cousin It hair.

Damn, that was fun. It made Sarah and me forget the near food-poisoning experience that was Banjara on Queen Anne hill. Avoid.

There was much bouncing and I should take care of my legs, because there will be much dancing at Dudley Manlove tomorrow night and I think they're already going to be sore tomorrow from jumping up and down all night.

In horrific news, I have to get up at 7am to take Jeanne to her car dealership in Bellevue. Those fucktards lost her keys. Car, house, everything. Just lost them. And weren't particularly apologetic about it. Apparently this has happened before to them and they said, "They usually turn up in a day or so." Man, I would have completely exploded and made them cry. But Jeanne is worried about her car and just wants them to fix it. So we have to take a second key out there tomorrow so they can fix her engine.

And for now, I need to go snuggle with Hobbes, because he is all about the love tonight. And not just because he's hungry (!).