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congrats to the spousebeast!

Today marks his five year anniversary working at UNC hospital.  That's feeding A LOT of sick people and their families.  I'm so proud of him.

Of course, we celebrated in the traditional way:  I cursed when the alarm went off at 5:15 and brought him coffee.  He bitched that I set out "short" socks for him (I swear, when I get the chance, I am buying him nine million pair of socks.  And they will ALL be thigh high.  No more bitching) and I assured him that his ankles wouldn't freeze because because it's supposed to be 68F here today.  Then I reminded him that, as of today, I qualify for widow's benefits AND have raging cramps, so he might want to step carefully around me.  ;)

He's a smart man.  He asked for the household debit card so he could buy a bottle of cheap champagne so we could finish off the rest of the blood orange sorbet when he gets home.

Smart, smart man.

This is the new vice in The Glass Asylum, and I can blame it on Giada Di Laurentiis.  On one of her shows, she suggested using a scoop of sorbet in place of orange juice in mimosas (and we know I'm all about mimosas.  Right safirerings?).  Now, being the classy sort, I go with Andres and Harris Teeter sorbet, but it is yummy.

But the presentation is a bit...off putting.  Kent calls it "Alien Brain Transplant."  But, again, still yummy.  Just close your eyes and think of the Empire while you drink it.  The Empire of your choice, of course.

The Blackstar listening party was AMAZING!  I love knowing music nerd who pick apart every chord, every word choice.  You can tell how Bowie was reference his entire body of work.  Utterly amazing.

Santa Pete listened to it three times in total silence.  I've never known him to be quiet for longer than 15 minutes before  (I'm the same way.  We drive Kent nuts).

My only complaint is the packaging.  I *get* it, but the black on black print makes reading the lyrics impossible.  Maybe that was David Bowie's intent.  If so, I respect it as an artist...but it doesn't make it any less annoying.

In other news, I applied for a manuscript reader position at The Sun this morning.  I've never written a letter of introduction that left me in tears before.  I'm both elated and terrified.  I really want to storm the offices, tell them I have read the magazine evey chance I got since I was 14, and believe that part of the reason I ended up in Chapel Hill was that their offices are here.

That's actually true.  When I got dumped on my ass here, I spent hours walking around, trying to get myself acquainted with my new home base.  I was stunned to see that a magazine I'd loved for years was based 6 blocks from Casa del Fag.  Shortly after that, I went to an art opening and met Sudie Rakusin, who is also local.

I came home all weepy (she did a reading for me and the card pulled was The Wanderer.  I told her how I got here and cried and she hugged me.  Now we go for tea and talk about projects and if you had told me this would happen when I was 19, I'd laugh).  Kent just gave me that smile and said "I told you you needed to be here."

So...let's hope I get this job.  15-20 hours a week.  I can work at the office or from home.  Oh, PLEASE, Universe.

Just looked at the LJI votes.  Ouch.  I guess I'll have a few more hours in the week after tonight.

Happy Monday, y'all.

Comments

qwentoozla
Feb. 2nd, 2016 01:08 am (UTC)
Blood orange sorbet and champagne sounds delicious!

Blackstar is amazing, isn't it? I'm sure he made the lyrics purposely obscure in the packaging...

Good luck for the job!

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