Most of today was just very tired and very hurting, but in the evening ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spatch made an executive decision about dinner and took me out to Fasika, because kitfo is delicious and full of protein and very soft to chew and the same holds true of green lentils cooked with ginger and garlic and the similarly spiced collards we forgot came as an automatic side with the kitfo and injera that has been serving as a platter for all these lovely, butter-soaked dishes is not known for its structural integrity, either. It was wonderful. Afterward we walked around the Mystic River and the destination surrealism of Assembly Row ("It's like a downtown without the town," I said; Rob said, "It's like backlots") and returned home by way of Louie's, where Rob got watermelon sherbet with jimmies and I got a cone of orange pineapple ice cream and both of us received lifetime helpings despite just ordering a small. We saw beautiful violet-white heat lightning flickering over the train tracks of the Orange Line. The public swimming pool at Foss Park looks as though it only requires a bathing suit, a towel, and a basic grasp of pool safety for entry, which seems like good news for the next heat wave.
On that front, we just finished setting up our new air conditioner, which comes from my brother and is rated for almost half again as many Btu/hour as our previous unit. It bit Rob while he was carrying it up the stairs, but it was wrestled successfully into the dining room window and seems to be doing a remarkable job of cooling the apartment with assistance from the box fan. While we were in Walgreen's buying the correct size of battery for its remote control (I've never had an air conditioner with a remote control, it feels fancy), a man passing behind us exclaimed, "That's some long hair, buddy! Uh, girl!" and since I was wearing an overshirt and Rob's hair is now long enough to braid, we actually have no idea which one of us he was talking to. We agreed it feels like a victory.
I am hoping Jojo Rabbit (2019) will be good in and of itself, but in the meantime Taika Waititi seems to be having the time of his life promoting it.
Much less philosophically about atrocity and comedy, I am hoping to get some sleep.
spatch made an executive decision about dinner and took me out to Fasika, because kitfo is delicious and full of protein and very soft to chew and the same holds true of green lentils cooked with ginger and garlic and the similarly spiced collards we forgot came as an automatic side with the kitfo and injera that has been serving as a platter for all these lovely, butter-soaked dishes is not known for its structural integrity, either. It was wonderful. Afterward we walked around the Mystic River and the destination surrealism of Assembly Row ("It's like a downtown without the town," I said; Rob said, "It's like backlots") and returned home by way of Louie's, where Rob got watermelon sherbet with jimmies and I got a cone of orange pineapple ice cream and both of us received lifetime helpings despite just ordering a small. We saw beautiful violet-white heat lightning flickering over the train tracks of the Orange Line. The public swimming pool at Foss Park looks as though it only requires a bathing suit, a towel, and a basic grasp of pool safety for entry, which seems like good news for the next heat wave.On that front, we just finished setting up our new air conditioner, which comes from my brother and is rated for almost half again as many Btu/hour as our previous unit. It bit Rob while he was carrying it up the stairs, but it was wrestled successfully into the dining room window and seems to be doing a remarkable job of cooling the apartment with assistance from the box fan. While we were in Walgreen's buying the correct size of battery for its remote control (I've never had an air conditioner with a remote control, it feels fancy), a man passing behind us exclaimed, "That's some long hair, buddy! Uh, girl!" and since I was wearing an overshirt and Rob's hair is now long enough to braid, we actually have no idea which one of us he was talking to. We agreed it feels like a victory.
I am hoping Jojo Rabbit (2019) will be good in and of itself, but in the meantime Taika Waititi seems to be having the time of his life promoting it.
Much less philosophically about atrocity and comedy, I am hoping to get some sleep.
