2002-12-10 - 1:35 p.m.

On the internal soundtrack: "And the Glory of the Lord", from Handel's "Messiah"

Today on the way to work, I saw a guy waiting on a corner wearing what looked like a sweatshirt hood with moose antlers attached to it.

Of course, I started waving frantically at him. Alas, he didn't look in my direction.

Poindexter: [deadpan] You're waving at a man with antlers.
Me: [excitedly] He's a MOOSE!

Over the weekend, I did NOTHING. Not one single productive thing. I watched a bunch of movies and read a book. It was SO GREAT. I haven't had a weekend like that since the summer, I think.

Poindexter, damn him, got fairly productive, putting boxes away from where they were deposited in our future theater room on the bottom floor. He put boxes of books into the rarely-used, oversized powder room, to be unpacked as time permits (or when somebody gets stuck in there and needs something to read). He put boxes of non-perishable items (rarely-used china, mostly) into the storage space. He made a lot of headway. I yelled at him for being so productive, but he said, "I want a theater room." I guess I can't argue with that.

He also started going through boxes of pictures, and picked out a bunch of me that he liked and made himself a "shrine", as he called it (a collage frame). I have some pictures of him for a shrine as well.

Thing is, my favorite pictures of him are not very frame-able. Like the one of him laughing with his head thrown back. You can't really see him, but it reminds me of something I like about him, so I like the picture. I also have one of him with his shirt off, smoking a cigarette, that is just to-die-for sexy, but I can't exactly put that on the wall for visitors to see. I'll have to get myself a small photo album or something.

BTW, with all due respect to smokers, I think smoking is just about the dumbest thing ever. I'm really glad Poindexter quit, even though he only smoked 3-5 cigarettes a day. But my GOD he looked sexy doing it. It was annoying, though, 'cause I'd watch him smoke and want to kiss him, but he'd taste disgusting. It was a problem.

Every now and then he has dreams about smoking. But he says the only time he really wants one is when he's stressed.

It is creepy to me that smoking becomes so ingrained. YEARS after quitting, people will still have the urge to smoke. Is there anything else that's like that?

In keeping with the season, here's a photo I found of me and my first very-own Christmas tree:

That was taken about 8 years ago, in my first apartment, right after college. As you can see in the background, I went way overboard with the girly pastels. I freakin' loved it. And I've always had very strong feelings for bush-like Christmas trees. That's a round little white pine, I think.

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