Yesterday was a busy day for me. I went with my very talkative aunt to collect a couch from my cousin in Rochester. While we were chatting, she told me a funny story about how very small Buffalo is. We live next door to two people who are completely unrelated to us. And yet, it turns out that my cousin dated the guy once, a long time ago, and furthermore, my grandmother dated his grandfather. Weird.

Then I was the designated driver for my buddy Tom's stag party. The party proper was pretty good- a large group of old Italian men drank beer and raised several hundred dollars to send Tom off. We went out afterwards and I had a pretty good time, though I think Tom's fiancee put him in a somewhat difficult position by forbidding him outright from visiting the Canadian ballet [I was not too broken up about it, but predictably it caused some friction] and also calling his cell about half a dozen times throughout the evening. Early on, Chris declared that we were out to get as close to arrested as possible without actually getting arrested [which would understandably be detrimental to his career as a lawyer] but I nevertheless sensed a not-insignificant amount of bad vibes coming from his direction when I lit up a doobie on the very crowded and isolated patio of 67 West. [It was worth it, though, just for Gwyll's triple-take when he eventually realized the cork-tipped 100mm filtered cigarette was not exactly kosher.] After a quick stop at Louies, I still got home before 4am, though not by much. I feel bad for Tom, who drank an enormous amount of alcohol, and Chris, who matched him and has to write a 15-page legal brief today.

When I came home from the stag, I found a citation for my compost pile (e:zobar,44) (e:zobar,45) - this time from the Town of Tonawanda, because the heap, which is approximately as dry as a wrung-out sponge, is an apparent fire hazard. I am quite annoyed as the letter, dated 1 July, only arrived yesterday and it seems to suggest that the inspector will return tomorrow. Furthermore, I can't even tell whether an inspection was made in the first place. This is seriously cramping my chill.

- Z