This weekened, Ed and I had the peasure of entertaining the lovely Parergon from over at The Disappearing Point, who had flown in to visit all the way from sunny, tropical Mantoba. We went on a hike up to the Grassi Lakes in Canmore, saw The 40-Year-Old-Virgin (which is awesome), hit the farmer's market and Dairy Lane, made potato salad, drank too much wine/sleeman's/sambuca/vodka, and I repeatedly got my ass handed to me at scrabble. She lived on my couch and was an absolutely ideal houseguest. I certainly hope she reads this and we can have the October Thanksgiving/conference/poetry blast we were discussing off and on all weekend. I'll even make a tofurkey. Especially if I can sculpt it into a dinosaur. Booya.

Parergon did, however, leave behind an excellent gift: I think her cold decided I too would be a suitable host. And since any sickness begins in my throat (the one week spot in an otherwise spooky consititution), today I sound like I should be hollering for another cocktail in the smokiest of slot-machine pits in vegas -- and not at a nice casino eaither, but one of the shitty ones where everything looks like it's been rubbed with ham. Eugh. An excuse to stay inside and drink lots of orange juice...and other, shall we say, antibacterial supplements. heh.

Tomorrow, an amazing thing happens: between 8am and noon, a nice man from Bell is coming over, and a satellite dish is bing firmly attached to our roof somewhere. Then, a magical little box will be attached to the tv. and when the tv is then turned on, rather than snowy peasant vision, we'll be able to see such glorious programming as Animal Planet, Iron Chef....and, most wonderful of all: Sunday ticket.

Yes, Ed and I are hardcore footballheads (NFL). Starting September 11th (season opener!), this is what our sundays are going to look like: breakfast, acquire food, plop down in front of the satellite tv, and proceed to scream ourselves hoarse for the next, oh, 8 hours or so. Particularly when Denver is playing. Hey, man, I have a giant orange foam finger and am not afraid to use it.

Goodness, my glass of medicinal relief is almost empty, and it's nearly 10am. tragic. excuse me. Go Broncos!