BOOK UPDATE: True, I am 1,683 words further along than I was last week, but I'm not as far along as I'd like to be. It's been a frustrating week, to say the least.
To get to work each day, I take Minnesota Highway 55 east across the Mendota Bridge. Then I turn right on Mendota Heights Road and head to the palatial estate of my benevolent employer. But on days when there is a good song on the radio and the sun is shining, I will tell myself that I am not going to make that turn onto Mendota Heights Road. Instead I will carry on down to Hastings, Minn., then maybe to Wisconsin and who knows where else. But to this point I have always made that right turn; responsibility to blame.
That's where I am with this book -- I want to push further, but the realities of life limit me to my two hours or less each day. It's not a lament that's going to earn me any sympathy: I'm doing what I want, but not enough of it.
Maybe I could just turn my novel into one very long blog post.
Anybody want to adopt a cat?
One can only guess what this might be.
Yet another reason I'm apprehensive about going to the dentist.
Minnesota Vikings coach Mike Tice enjoys the soothing sounds of Daniel Bedingfield.
This is kind of cool (if you're me): A few weeks ago, I posted a picture that sits on the wall of the world's dodgiest tattoo parlour, in Portsmouth, England. I have since found these three pictures of said tattoo parlour. If you look closely at the first and third picture, you can just barely see the Pompey sailor mural on the lower right.
Dancing the Polka with Miss El Cajon: Veinte años
11 hours ago