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Why did I get up at 6 on Saturday?

Oh well; at least I can nap later today. I've mentioned how useful and good a naproom would be at work, but everyone seems to think I'm joking.

Good things for the weekend:

Today, after some chores and cleaning and such (and a nap, probably), I'll take the dillo downtown and do a little Feng Shui shopping at Tesoros and also go by Whole Foods for grill fodder (see Sunday, below) and empanadas, which I've decided are the perfect work lunch food. Then, tonight, Teen Titans: Trouble in Tokyo, a movie on the Cartoon Network! I've missed my Teen Titans.

Sunday, writing, all morning--second drafting all the scrawly long-hand from busride writing time over the last two weeks and then working it all into some more lovely shape. I think I've pretty much got the scaffold draft of the first chapter, plus a start on the next and a sense of the next few. I'd wanted to maybe have the first chapter be a story unto itself, but that's not happening at the moment. I have to get what I have in shape for Turkey City in two weeks.

Sunday afternoon/evening, Mr. Howard Waldrop's 60th b-day grill party down in Manchaca (that's pronounced Manchack, btw) at Brad and Barb Denton's casa. I am going with the lovely stinabat.

Sometime next week I want to go see Lunacy after work, at the Dobie. Have to find someone who wants to go with me, though.

The Legend of Unonamo

There is an apocryphal story in cat lore, a legend lodged deep in the brain chemistry of all cats. It tells of a long ago cat named Unonamo who sang so sweetly to a bird that the bird came and offered itself for play and food, so as to become one with Unonamo.

That is why, to this day, cats sing to birds, in the hope that one day, the magic of Unonamo, lost to them these thousand thousand generations, will be reborn in their song and the birds will come. To play. To be tasted. To be one.