Believing is Art

The recent 'SWOMF' had its moments, and seemed to be sufficiently magical enough. I did get to watch both of the baseball games, plus go to the Art Institute, but also had to endure migraine-inducing shopping and foot the dinner bill. I am semi-shocked to say that M and I have vaguely similar tastes in art (nothing made before 1900, as a rule). We seemed to spend the most time in the 'contemporary' section. One exhibit was simply a large rectangle filled with brightly wrapped candies. The small card, hidden out of most views, said we were free to take pieces of candy and eat them. So, naturally, I'd repeatedly wait until the room was full of people, then loudly walk over and take a piece of candy, while everyone else waited in horror for security to come and drag me away.

Bonus: The candy was delicious, I had both orange and grape.

Last night: "I'll be to bed soon, the game is in the bottom of the eighth inning..." yawn...

So now that M is finally working harder and longer hours again, I'm going to have a lot more free time on my hands. It just so happens that November is National Novel Writing Month. I've signed up on the website, the deal is you have to write 50,000 words in 30 days. 1,667 words per day. That really didn't sound too tough, except it seems that this blog has only been 18,000 words in the last 8 months. Plus, I haven't written a word of fiction in a million years. But, I signed up, and with you as my witness, will attempt to succeed while documenting my progress here. Just think, someday soon you get to read about my writing something else that will inevitably be too horrible for you to ever read. It's blogger sweeps month!

For some reason I'm having an itch to go bowling. No idea.

I may shave my beard into a mustache just for the weekend. I need to get rid of it so I can get passport photos taken next week. Are there any halloween costumes that involve 5-week mustaches?