This Scale is Your Scale

So my parents are flying off to the Galapagos Islands tomorrow, I think. Maybe the next day but I think it's tomorrow.

I just spend the past half hour or so out on my porch playing the guitar while my dog waited obsessively for me to throw the ball. She drops the ball somewhere near you (but almost never right at your feet, see, she comes in so fast and has learned that balls roll so she drops them early so they'll end up near you... except she never really got that sticks don't roll so much and now she's just completely muddled about the whole thing) and then backs up a few steps and hunches down a bit and stares intently at the ball. Now, whether she's mentally willing it to move or is simply unwilling to ever miss a chance to chance in case you should pick it up and fling it while she's not looking I'm not prepared to say. In fact, she misses some because she's so keyed up that she'll just take off at the first hint of a throw so even if I'm not trying to fake her out she runs in the completely wrong direction at least 15% of the time. Now some of those she'll hear land and correct herself, but others turn into a systematic search which finds the ball/stick/plastic flower pot/whatever she's chasing that day a surprising amount of the time.

Anyway, so I was just out there playing some and noodling some and having a pretty good time and decided to come in here and tell you about... my dinner tonight. See, we were going to head downtown to hear some live music but sort of ran out of energy so we decided to get something to eat and then take advantage of Hollywood Video's rent anything in the store for $.99 coupons. Brian jumped at the prospect of a free dinner so the three of us went to Aunt Bea's Country Buffet which I liked so much so long ago. We haven't been there in at least a year, I'd guess, and wow, the decline that we'd sort of been noticing sure became evident. Sort of like when you don't see somebody for, ohh, say, a year and then he shows up and, oh, nevermind.

So it was awful. The best thing on my plate tonight? The oreo pudding. Dude, when the pudding is the best thing you've got you're seriously hurting. Everything, and I mean everything, was awful. Even the stuff that tasted ok had something wrong with it. Like the brunswick stew, which I only had a bit of, well, it was lots tastier that I was fearing, but it was ice cold. And the catfish? The first little piece I had was OK enough that I went back for a second... and I made it through one bite of that one. Dude, it was pretty raunchy.

They have upgraded their soft serve ice cream machine to real ice cream, but the cobbler I put it on was so bad it couldn't cover. I rated this as the second worst dining experience since I've been in Athens. The worst was sometime last fall when LZ and I went to one of the schlock mexican joints out on Atlanta Highway (Mexicali Grill, I think). We've been eating Mexican exclusively at Agua Linda ever since. (Although as Chad has argued, I like La Parilla too...)

So that's that. I need to write about the tournament sometime and, really, I haven't gotten around to writing about New Zealand yet and it's been 6 months. Alas.

Doug's thoughts on nothing in particular