Niece will arrive today, together with her mom and her friend A, Mom and daughter having dyed their hair pink for the concert I'm driving them to on Sunday. I'd wanted to be gone back with them all last night, but she has a sewing class today.
A sewing class? That's a good sign, mom.
-Well, still, she's like your brother. Thinks she knows everything already.
Niece's hope is to be some sort of designer someday, so at least she has ambition, though there's a lot of had road between here and there. Her mom, God love her, is at least working again, which is something, given her condition. If life were a football game, Niece's Mom would be some poor schlub from the concession stand who, wearing the wrong team's colours, accidentally gets hit on the head and wanders out on the field, wondering what this football-shaped thing is that's landed in her hands just as she looks up into the murderous eyes of the onrushing defensive line of the New York Giants.
I digress.
Niece, being a cunning but completely transparent manipulator, has enveigled events so that she can see Mindless Self Indulgence, a group with a name so generic I have to write it down in order to remember it. She needs a chaperone for her and her friend in order to see the show, and I agreed to do it, but Niece and her mom decided that there was no way I'd enjoy it, and so she's taking them even though she hates the group, which is only fair, since she paid for the tickets initially. I think they imagine that the group is too hardcore for the likes of me, which I find hilarious, sitting here listing to Front Line Assembly rip its way through Millenium And Vigilante. I did give MSI a listen, and it quickly became apparent I could sit through their show, seeing as they constantly reminded me of other, better punk and electronica bands, who were, you know, actually musically inclined. Maybe I chose the tracks poorly, I dunno. But hey, probably not a time for acquiring new musical tastes anyway.
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