Went to Central Market (Austin grocery store) this morning. CM is now printing its paper bags with the following message:

‘I am a brown paper bag. More than likely I’ll end up under your kitchen sink with a few of my friends. I might get cut up and wrapped around an old textbook, or just stuck under something messy. It would be nice if someone made me into a kite. I’d like to be a kite. But whatever happens, I will never forget the day I carried groceries home from Central Market.’

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I’ve been spending a lot of time in coffee shops this week because there’s construction work going on daily in our building. New people moving in and deciding that the best way to make the place feel like home is to rip up and replace the existing hardwood floors. This requires the use of a jackhammer from 9am to 5.30pm and a lot of Mexicans. In the brief lulls, there’s still the soothing sounds of next door’s screaming baby and the 24 floor apartment block going up outside our window. I really shouldn’t complain, I’ve brought it on myself. If you dislike most people, hate noise and inane small talk then you probably shouldn’t choose apartment living.

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We watched the series finale of The Sopranos on Sunday. Better bloggers than I, or me, have dissected the final scene and ranted and raved about how David Chase screwed us over and is clearly un-American. As if that’s a bad thing. I’d imagine HBO took a fair amount of abuse along with the subscription cancellations. And I now have an hour less of TV to watch every week. Although Hell’s Kitchen is back on and Gordon Ramsey’s a fat bastard too so it all balances out. Erik and I were in step with the rest of America – he cursed the cable for going out when the screen went to black without the usual music and I poured another glass of wine and laughed and read the message boards.

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