It's another Saturday morning, and I'm preparing to re-dye my hair. Long's had a 2-for-1 sale on my dye, what luck. I have in front of me a pair of scrambled eggs with a tiny bit of shredded smoked gouda and black pepper on top with a side of whole wheat sourdough toast and raspberry preserves. I'll have some juice, take some vitamins, and be ready to make 1/4-inch parts in my hair by pumping gooey black dye. It is a good breakfast.
Last night, I went on the Winchester Mystery House flashlight tour with the Editor and Jenn. It is pretty much the same as the daylight tour, but mildly spookier because it's dark and there are lots of bizarre crevices and unlit open spaces behind unfinished walls and such. It's so strange to me that this is the tourist attraction it is, but it is in some ways analagous to San Jose. It's large and sprawling and full of things that make you go "What the fuck?" and "Wow, that's pretty neat," but mostly things you just pass by. It's at once not at all cool yet not totally lame. It also looks cooler from above.
Prior to that, we had dinner at Consuelo's in Santana Row, which was notable for the guacamole they make at your table and serve with tiny, fresh corn tortillas instead of chips. Awesome.
Tomorrow, Kevin and I have tickets to the Mr. Show Q&A in San Francisco, so we'll be heading up to the city for that and try to work in some time in the Haight and a visit to my sister (at least to return her suitcase). Kevin recently decided to like coffee again (though he will argue that he always did, it just didn't agree with his stomach, but with a little vanilla soymilk, all is well), so I am open to coffee shop suggestions for tomorrow. Hippie places with organic/fair trade/shade grown coffee will be given preference provided the coffee they make is delicious. (Jess, I know about your Campbell recs, and I still need to try the one downtown sometime.)
I'm trying to get through my Netflix rentals this weekend because I hate holding onto things for so long. We watched the first two discs of Arrested Development last week, even though we'd already seen at least half of them, and I got around to Pink Flamingos last night. It was a psychic assault, really fucked up, and...I actually kind of enjoyed it. Today I am scheming to watch both depressing documentaries, The Lost Boys of Sudan and The End of Suburbia.
But first, the darkeninger of my hair.
I love you more than my hair color.