Saturday morning

I've been up for little more than a half hour and I'm ready for a nicotine lozenge.
except you're not supposed to have a nicotine lozenge while drinking (even though I know intelligent people who think nothing of breaking this rule - hi Maggie!) and I would like a few more sips of Mountain Dew (which I have cut down on drastically in an attempt to not be so damn fat; 290 calories in a 20 oz. Dew/0 calories (obviously) in a Coke Zero) but, of course, my Dew is close to frozen solid, almost to the top, because I keep my Dew in the freezer and I overfilled the bottle before putting it in there and I've only been up for little more than a half hour so not a lot of melting has occurred (even with an assist), even in July.

the nicotine urge is a bit ahead of schedule today (just two days short of eleven months since my last cigarette), probably because I feel so damn guilty that my beloved is desperately trying to keep to a schedule this morning (I certainly have many things to do today, but the actual schedule portion doesn't start until later) and yet she's the one walking (rushing) to Socrates Sculpture Park to drop off the now two weeks' worth of compost since when we (yes, we) went last week it was after noon and it seems that even though the green market stays open until 4 p.m. the compost folks go home at noon.

this, of course, is but one way that you can tell us apart: she is willing to spend 35-40 minutes walking back and forth, risking a miss of her train to New Jersey to go to the beach with her sister (though hopefully this isn't much of a possibility), in order to drop off two weeks' of our collected compost.
I would, of course, be willing to walk with her on this errand, but that would somehow defeat the purpose of her going and I did not appear to be willing to spend 35-40 minutes of the less than 2 1/2 hours before noon walking two weeks' worth of compost there by myself.
and yet I have time to compose a blog posting about that very same subject.
hello, nicotine lozenge.

how can you not like Miguel Angel Jimenez?
(and yes, that was a kind of Larry King thing to do)

also, a not terribly surprising busy week with a museum stop, a concert stop, two Restaurant Week stops and nine 49er interviews since Monday morning (with likely two more on the menu for today), including the aforementioned physics professor and puppeteer (these brought to you by the letter P) as well as a bioethicist, a future head of the Modern Language Association, a real estate agent and former Idaho congressional candidate, a writer and former Friday the 13th actress, a current New York Times scribe, the reigning queen of LDS romance fiction and a real estate agent and current Maryland state delegate.
but it was a rather surprising week for new words written about the Tusk book, including quite a few for the Austin Chronicle music blog (I think he liked it - at least enough that I'll be allowed back into Austin some day - but it's still early yet so I can't tell for sure; example: I think I got accused (not exactly the right word but, again, it's early) of borrowing a description of Lindsey (Buckingham) as "the Terrence Malick of rock" from Lindsey himself in an earlier Austin Chronicle piece when actually Lindsey tossed out the "Terence Malick" defense to me for an LA Weekly piece some two months before).
weird, wild (and rather circular) stuff.
see? I told you it was early.