Martha Stewart Would Be Proud
Sorry I missed the wedding yesterday. But I was hungover from my birthday celebration and feeling a little selfish with my time. I hope to see LiveJournal flooded with descriptions and pictures.

I'm 26 now.

Tonight, I'm thinking of attending my first Scrabble club meeting since the early summer, when slam team rehearsals took over my Monday nights. I hope the gang remembers me. And I hope I can quickly adapt to the new dictionary.

This weekend, I cooked a bunch of chicken, fish, veggies, and shrimp. They're all tucked neatly into tupperware containers. I plan on eating them throughout the week like an army man.

For my birthday present, I picked up the new Athlete CD, the fifth song of which Andy Langer claimed "dwarfs everything on the new Coldplay CD," and he's pretty close. Who knew a song about a premature baby on life support could be so catchy? I also grabbed the new collection of David Foster Wallace stories, "Oblivion." Thus far, it hasn't disappointed.

Sarah so graciously gave me the first plant I've owned since moving to Austin. We don't know what TYPE of plant it is, but its name is Ferris and it looks adorable on the window sill. She also gave me what's turning out to be a very calming book on "loving-kindness." Also, I watched about four episodes of Oz, whose violence is not loving-kindness, but it still, somehow, fascinating.

All in all, a good weekend to turn 26. And I feel more curious and watchful of my life than I have in some time. It's a good thing.