Sunday, August 28, 2016

28 August 2016 (Sunday)

On this day in 1954 (Saturday):
Got up about 11:00 this morning and went down town and bought myself a couple of pair of school pants and a shirt $12.00. Stayed around [had] and worked on my rocks this afternoon and after supper I went with the dance band down to [Akision]. [Say] and play for a [march] of [dino] dance. Saw Verin] Park's [Salon] missing tonight and I got a ride home with him. Got in and got to bed about 12:45. Spent $12.00. 
Ha. Early night.

I slept pretty well last night but woke up at 3:45 (AGAIN) and decided I was NOT going to ruin a Sunday, so I took a tiny piece of ambien and I guess I went back to sleep because the next thing I knew it was 5:13. The Spousal Unit was up and about around 4 though which I later found out was because Daisy had thrown up. I made scrambled eggs this morning and I went to Mass. It was okay although Julie didn't do the Mass. *sigh*

Came home and watched a bit of the race and did a few odd chores here and there and took a short nap around 11:20. Went to UVil for lunch etc., but came back a little earlier than usual to catch the end of the race (final 7 laps). Did some piddling around and minor chores the rest of the day. Walked. Managed to keep the muftig mood most of the day and most of the weekend as well. So that's good.

Still listening to piano music a lot. I may have described this before, but I first got into the whole new age music stuff when I moved out here and discovered the piano stuff -- George Winston and Michael Jones -- somewhere in there, too. When I lived at the end of 17th Ave (by Ravenna Gulch) I would come back from the UW around 9:30 at night, watch a bit of TV and drink probably three stiff whiskey and waters. At some point I'd switch off the TV and start reading poetry or some old book or other and play the piano music and I'd always finish it off with Winston's "Thanksgiving" which is kind of a sad piece and get super duper melancholy, sometimes even weeping. At the time it felt all romantic and stuff, which is about right for the age I was at (28). I think I needed that time more or less alone. The alcohol was mostly habit although it did add to the melancholy junk, and at the time I thought (and was probably correct) that it helped me sleep. It eventually started having the opposite effect and I eventually mostly gave up. I do miss it though. 

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