Eight years ago on this day I was having my abdomen sliced open so that I could meet my son. Happy Birthday little man! I’m glad you made it out into this crazy world. I can’t begin to imagine what my life would be like without you in it.
Speaking of crazy, for years a piece of trivia was eluding me. Every time my brain tried to grab a hold of it I was denied and it irked me to no end. But finally, right before bed the other night, the lightning bolt struck. I’d been trying to recall what Hard Times Cafe had been called in its previous incarnation. It was the Urban Peasant. Which we all dubbed the Urban Unpleasant. The food was good but the service was less than enthusiastic. Not much has changed.
Bonus: Mohammed Rafi, Bollywood Star. That man had the moves. I could watch this all day long.
Plus: Yesterday I was introduced to thingpart. It was life-changing.
And: On the rare occasion that I get out of town, there will invariably be something awesome going on here while I am elsewhere. I’m taking the lad to Chicago the weekend of the 28th, and will be missing the “Get a Clue - Girls Rock the U!” scavenger hunt concert and a flickr photowalk in one of my fave neighborhoods, the Summit Avenue/Cathedral Hill area of St. Paul. Oh wells.
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