Have you ever had one of those days where you may or may not have run over a squirrel? It was that sort of day today.
Perhaps it had something to do with bourbon and yesterday, which was the sort of day where you discuss bitterness and ghosts with a friend at a coffee shop, and then continue said discussion over dinner, and then go to a fellow friend's bachelor party and discuss, among other things, Terminator: Salvation and the Michael Bien-lessness of Predator.
It's possible.
Or maybe there were lingering effects of having actually watched Terminator: Salvation on Friday. It was not disappointing, in the sense that I wasn't expecting much beyond familiar noises, robots, and nostalgia. Went with a friend, different than the bitter ghost friend. We'll call them Willie because I like pseudonyms and boys' names for girls. After the movie, we sat through the credits and the lights dimming, and we remained there, in the dark--talking about how we humans tend to like stories which say humans are better than machines, but really, there's not all that much evidence either way--until the man with the flashlight came and shooed us away. That part was actually quite fun.
Or it may have just been that I watched an episode of LOST this morning.
In any case, it was a Sunday and it rained a lot and, on one of the walls of Faulkner's Alley*, there was a sketch of a girl with long hair and next to her, the title of a Beatles song. I took a picture with my cellphone, but, at the moment, have no way of uploading that picture here. You'll have to use your imagination.
The bit with the squirrel came after this. He seemed a sturdy fellow. I'm sure he's okay.
ttfn, readers.
*Faulkner's Alley is a thoroughfare between two bars located on the Oxford Square. There's no particular reason I know of that it's called Faulkner's Alley, except that it's in Oxford and located between two bars.
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