I love words but I'm not a fan of puns really. I kind of miss Paris. As cool as shop windows can be in Austin, you are lots more likely to see cowboy boots or punk clothing than absinthe paraphernalia. In an attempt to capture the fun we had in Paris (or maybe just to get back to our roots of having fun in Austin) we went to the Elephant Room last night. ("Cool Jazz in the Basement 365 Days a Year...3426 consecutive nights of music and still counting."). Paris wishes they had a place like this with NO SMOKE. I used to think about going there and then think about the low ceilings and the exhaust of all those smokers and think 'nah.'
Another acquaintance of ours, roughly our age, died. That either means I should keep living with vigor like I did yesterday or get a checkup. You know...I'm thinking the former. Didn't know this guy well. We worked with him long ago and then we would see him and his wife dining at a restaurant near us in recent years. (Fonda San Miguel if you must know.)
But, yeah, I do love words. Lately I've been thinking how I like foible and today I'm thinking how I like paraphernalia which has an obscure meaning as well as the one we are familiar with..." A married woman's personal property exclusive of her dowry, according to common law." Not so much use for that one anymore. We've come a long way baby.
This has to be the most rambling entry I've ever made. So be it.
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