142 days to go

I love Chicago in May. It's about the only time where we get what everyone else calls "Spring." The temperature is nice, the lake is cool, and people start crawling out of their winter shells.

Sorry to wax on the atmospheric situation. I did a lot of bike riding today. I like to do that, primarily because it makes me feel young and silly. Not to mention it's damn good exercise.

Which brings me to my turning 30 panic attack alert for today:

Amber.

I don't know why. Probably because I worked at Tower this morning, which always makes me feel old. For those of you who don't know, my last day is next Saturday. I'm finally putting an end to my late-in-life retail career. It's about time. One more person asking me a dumb question about 50 Cent or ABBA was probably going to put me into full postal mode.

I'm going to a show tonight, Dressy Bessy. They're fun. If you're in the area, go to Schubas at 10. Good stuff.

Tomorrow, I'm catching the Polkaholics. Yes, it is what it sounds like. Polka songs done by a punk trio. That is to say, three guys in their mid thirties who still play music and couldn't come up with a better name if they tried. Beat Kitchen. Tomorrow at 9 or 10. I forget. Come for the Old Style, stay for the Old Style Polka.

I sh!t you not.

Ok, my turning 30 panic attack has been officially downgraded to yellow. I forgot about the Polkaholics thing.

I really wanted to rent Logan's Run tonight(for those who haven't clued in yet, this entire blog experience is based on that movie) but it was checked out. Whoever the hell has it, bring it back. Dammit. I got an itch to scratch, Sandman.

That's all for today. I've got to get ready for my evening's activities.

dave