Jan. 19th, 2015

anagramofbrat: (abi-station)
I really enjoyed my afternoon of pizza, wings and football yesterday afternoon/evening over at the McGurks. We hadn't seen them in a bit, it was shitty outside and the mild bug I'd had last week seems to have moved into my chest to morph into a lovely cough with laryngitis (I sound like a phone sex operator with a 30 year Newport habit right now), plus I had plans to yarn up my head so pretty much the choice was plop on my own couch and watch hours of TV by myself or plop on someone else's couch, eat yummies and watch football with good friends. Yeah, hmm lemme think about that, lol.

blah blah blah sportsballs )

Today I'm spending a quiet Martin Luther King day at home finishing up my hair, cudding cats, nursing my still-shot voice and reflecting on the past year in conjunction with King's legacy. We ain't at the promised land yet, y'all, Much work still needs to be done. I took about half an hour to reread "Letter from a Birmingham Jail" this morning; I invite everyone to do the same. It is quite resonant in the dust of the last year's events, and it's important to really sit down and read King's words as they were written/said and not the easily digested and oft regurgitated soundbites we are spoon fed every January.

*Interestingly, the Pats are the only MA-local team I've adopted as a New York transplant, which is funny because aside from the Cowboys and the fucking R*****ns they seem to be the most hated team in the league. Still here for the Nets, Mets and Rangers tho. I bear the Celtics and the Bruins no ill will but if anything, living in MA has soured me even more on the Red Sox because my GOD their fans. >_< Big Papi could get it, though.


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