It was sunny and and we only made it to 70˚F (this fucking blackberry winter shit). Currently, it's 57˚F.
I spent most of the day re-reading Mark Frost The Secret History of Twin Peaks, which was next on my re-readathon list. At this rate, I'll finish it tomorrow. Though, a huge chunk of tomorrow will be eaten up by a harrowing doctor's visit, so...maybe not.
On this date in 2015, I wrote: Last night, Neko Case tweeted, "Cars used to come in interesting shapes. Now they all look like ugly running shoes." That's the fucking truth. I want my 1959 Pontiac Starchief back. It was my grandmother's, before it became mine. I lost the gas cap and replaced it with a potato because I couldn't afford to buy a new one. The muffler rusted loose of the chassis, and I wired it in place with a coat hanger. Sometimes, I had to pour a few drops of gas into the carburetor to get the engine to turn over. But I adored that car. I sold it in 1986, because I desperately needed cash for the move to Boulder.