loving a music man ain't always what it's supposed to be
It's so cool having Saturdays with Dennis...as long as we've been married, he's had to work at the Record Barn on Saturday, but now he doesn't have to. This morning we got up and went out for breakfast and an early movie (Broken Flowers...good, not great). Breakfast was fast so we had some time to kill down on Santana Row. Santana Row is one of those fake-street shopping/lifestyle plaza dealies. They're all over the place here. See, it's like a thriving downtown, without all the poor people and non-chain stores!
Anyway, we went into Borders to look at books, and somehow we ended up in the Religion section (I was looking for the knitting books, oops), where I discovered the bizarre parallel world of Christian genre fiction and self-help. Had enough of that godless badly-written science fiction/fantasy? Well, how about some badly written science fiction or fantasy that gives glory to the Lord? Or maybe some romance? Mysteries? Chick lit? Light You Go Girl relationship advice? It's all there. It's like a creepy store-within-a-store, where you know that you will not encounter anything that will threaten your sensibilities in any way. We did a bunch of random page tests and were howling. I guess we're supposed to forgive the sin of bad writing, and this was a whole bunch of opportunities for spiritual discipline.
This afternoon, I went to Ikea with Ryan. The best part was probably the small child who had climbed up on top of a stack of throw rugs and was sobbing and saying, "We are never going to get out of this place!" A statement, by the way, which seemed less funny in the checkout and the parking garage. I got a curtain rod and a floor lamp (we had a lamp casualty in the move). Our place is starting to come together a bit.
Ooops, sorry, talked about moving again. Moving isn't funny! Must be funnier!
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