So it turns out that I’m a 45 year old man who can’t seem to dress himself properly. Because after I showered, I put on a shirt inside-out. And had no idea that I did this, for the entirety of the day.
As luck would have it, my cousin Jenny was in town this week – and we made plans to catch up over some coffee, early on Friday morning. We met up at the Intelligentsia that’s near Millennium Station (the one that I tend to walk by, but rarely stop at because I’m rushing to get to work).
For my birthday, Liz had some fun excursions planned for the evening. First up, we had dinner at Daisies, which was a nice treat. We’ve been really good about staying on our diet, but tonight was an excuse to splurge a little bit – and so pasta was back on the menu.
He was a little confused at first, but I convinced him to hand his phone over. And I then googled the blog post where I wrote about being mistaken for Steve Aoki.
Lately, I’ve gotten more emails that were meant to be for some other (assuming German) Felix Jung. It happens often to me, as my email is [email protected], but Gmail ignores any kind of special character in the email address.
The nonfiction piece was an older one I wrote a long while ago, a short essay called Felix + Dzintra + Queensrÿche. It was written for an anthology, reflecting on love in the era of the mix tape, called Cassette From My Ex: Stories and Soundtracks of Lost Loves.
The bunnies have been staying with Liz Rench for the last few months, as we wanted them to be elsewhere during a lot of the recent house work. Over the holidays, Liz and I talked and decided we wanted the bunnies to return home.
When I saw this, I got really excited. It’s amazing to see the room in this state, as the walls have never been this insulated or this protected ever. I know we’ve still got more work to do, but this was really encouraging.
An old slide. I wonder if these things slipped down from upstairs, from behind the fireplace?
This felt like cheating, but at the least it was sincere and heartfelt (and better than what I had previously). On paper, it’s kind of a lame proposal. But I feel like it went better in actual execution:
Wait, I hear you asking… if you’re taking the photo, who’s driving the boat?
We left a little early this week, to spend a long weekend in Whitehall, MI, with Kirt and Anne at their new lakehouse. Liz and I both worked from home on Thursday, then hit the road around 4PM.
Lately, I’m wrecking shirts faster than I can keep them clean. Though for tonight’s task, I got particularly dusted up.