Hella Stella

So! I'm feeling slightly less angry, which is great, because I'm really snarly when I'm mad.

This evening is all about rehearsing with my buddy Rozalind who I'm playing with tomorrow night at the Black Sheep. We're going to collaborate on each others songs like we did on each others records. Swapping flute and banjo. Mmmmm. She's a big dog lover, so I'm excited for her to get here and meet Morty.

I had hoped to bring Morty to this show (because the Sheep is very friendly to bulldogs), but someone would need to watch him constantly and that's not something I'm willing to burden anyone with. Besides, he's scared of instruments. And we'd be at a music venue. There will be at least two cellos, one banjo, several flutes and two guitars.

I can just imagine the carnage.

Yesterday, as I was jotting down a(nother) list of my life's goals,* I was surprised to see myself write "start playing tennis."

I played tennis when I was in Jew camp as a child. I loved it, but when I left that camp I also left behind the only tennis courts I had easy access to. Sports in general aren't something I get excited about, but I still daydream about being able to play tennis again. I guess that's why it popped up on the list. Maybe I'll start scoping out tennis courts in Centretown. Anyone have suggestions? Anyone a closet tennis player?

Funny random thing: I bumped into a friend on the way home who was asking about Morty. Most people don't know much about the strange quirks of bulldogs, but I couldn't help but giggle when she said, "Do you take him to the dog park? Oh, wait, let me guess. He doesn't like to walk that far."

And you know what? He doesn't.

*Laugh all you want, but I would be wandering around in circles if it weren't for my lists.