…but I’m not in the kitchen, so what do I do now?
It’s unusually hot, even for Houston. The high is 92 degrees and it’s only going down to 72 overnight. Two days in Maine was enough to get me in an autumn mood. I don’t appreciate this rebound summer in the least. I left the YMCA at lunch time after exercising and I felt like I was swimming through the air. And the forecast shows the same thing all freakin’ week long. Bleah.
I read my story “Kane’s Mutiny” from Fedora III last night, the first time I had read it in at least a year. I was able to approach it almost as if it had been written by someone else and I had the strange experience of being impressed by my own writing. I know, that’s a horribly tacky and pompous thing to say, but most days I wonder if I have what it takes and then I find myself chuckling at a turn of a phrase or looking at the story and saying, boy that really worked for me. The story is about a bounty hunter named Kane who is on the trail of a bail jumper. He meets his match along the way, in a very Chandleresque sense.
How about those Astros? And those Red Sox? All the Astros need to do is win one of the next two games, and they’re bound for the World Series. The Red Sox, alas, have to win both of the next two games to meet them there.
There was a certain element of perverse pleasure in seeing Jeff Kent smash that thing over the wall after the Reds deliberately walked the batter in front of him. Underestimate me, it seemed to say. See where that gets you!
I’m thrilled that the Red Sox have been able to battle back this far, but these five-hour games are killing me.
I hear ya! I could hardly sit still during the last two innings. I’m not normally a person who gets jittery and wound up, but a close game like that will do it to me every time. What a great, record-setting performance. Tonight, the Astros get their first crack at setting history by making it to the Series…and the Sox, well, it could be another late night.