So today has been a long day, in the great tradition of said phrase. On Friday the vet told Wendy that the budgies (now named Heloise and Dirk incidentally, so hopefully Wendy's got their gender's correct as it's still a little iffy at this point) had psitticosis. And since this lovely bacteria is communicable to humans Wendy and I both had to go to the doctor today. Where we were told, "Ok, call is if you have headaches, fever, or are coughing a lot." And to top it all off it turns out they don't have psitticosis at all. Heloise is totally healthy and Dirk appears to have the birdie equivalent of AIDS. In case anyone's counting that makes 3 or 4 pets with compromised immune systems. Poor baby. Hopefully he'll wind up being fine though. And the appointment wasn't a complete waste because I also got a tetanus shot (now with added whooping cough protection!) and the first of three HPV vaccines. So my arm, shoulder, and the left side of my neck are achey, but if I step on a rusty nail I'll be fine.
And that took me to three o'clock. About a month ago I impulse bought a ticket to see Peter Bjorn and John at Webster Hall. So despite the fact that I've been feeling kind of gross lately I felt like I had to go. I didn't particularly want to see the opening bands though (in fact I still have no idea who they were) so I figured I'd just go around 9:30. Watched the Sabres suck (and seriously, they should stop that because it's getting kind of annoying) for a couple of periods and then headed off to the concert. Only to find out that they wouldn't be on until 10:45. So I watched the last 4 minutes of the game at the Village Pourhouse, during which time they did not suck but also, according to the NHL, did not score, and then went home for awhile.
I got back to Webster Hall around 10:30. Two vodka cranberries with too much ice and too little vodka and $18 dollars later, the band actually came on. One of the girls standing next to me had at some point prior to their appearance said, "Swedes are like Germans, right, so they should be on time." Huh? When has a concert ever started on time? So at 11:10 they came on and I discovered that Peter Bjorn and John? Are really boring. Very, very boring. They're like indie-pop elevator music. What was I thinking when I decided to go to that? So I stayed for about 4 songs and then decided that I might as well go home rather than stand there stewing.
As it turns out, I probably should have worn rainboots as it was pouring pretty hard by then. Oh well. By the time I got home (after a brief stop at Pommes Frites because when I'm cranky I crave greasy food) My pants and shoes were completely soaked. And I had realized that the combination of not eating anything between 9 am and 11:30 pm and my being a complete lightweight had actually left me a bit drunk. Which wasn't necessarily a bad thing. So I wound up home, around midnight on a Tuesday, eating fries and watching Ma Vie en Rose. Really not such an awful way to spend the evening.
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