AUSTIN, Texas, Mar. 18, 2005 — We have it in ourselves to be happy. To do as we please. What better day than today. I embrace the day. Not just because I've chosen not to go to any movies. Or not to workout. Although the negative space, the time you are not doing something, is as important as the doing. Really.

Even though I went to sleep early, I sleep in. FFP returns to sleep a bit more after tending to the dog's food and visit to the yard and getting the papers. I announce that I'm not going to the club. I think that the days off are as critical as the days doing. Right?

FFP showers. We watch last night's Northern Exposure. I shower and plan our day and make some plans for tomorrow and I call and get an appointment for a haircut. Then I edit the pictures I took last night and work on my journal. FFP and I converge on the kitchen to discard some science experiments (we've been eating in the dark at Alamo Drafthouse Theaters a lot and by the way I've been having a few drafts, too, as that part of the name represents many beers on tap) and to eat some fresher leftovers. He goes to the store for some new salad supplies and I go get a haircut. My barber is playing solitaire on the computer. She finishes her game and we discuss a few things and she gets down to business on my hair. She closes for lunch just as I leave, disappointing someone driving up.

A new haircut is a good thing. Not that I hate how it looks when it has grown longer and I haven't been able to find the time in my busy schedule to get to the barber. But I do like what it will do when short, too, and how it dries faster and looks more radical when I first get out of bed.

We run over to the Firehouse at 3PM and hear a discussion of the ballet's Light: The Humanity and Holocaust project. We watch the dancers work out for a few minutes, too. This project has been very emotional for everyone involved. Every time we get outside today, I marvel at the lovely springtime. We park a little ways away and walk a few blocks. Probably should get out more, but oh well.

Back home we kick around the house. FFP turns on the oven but there is something spilled in it and it immediately starts smoking and sets off the fire alarm. We keep our alarm company from sending a fire truck and turn it off and turn off the alarm and air out the house. When it's cool I try to clean it. I can't think for the life of me what made this spill in the oven. I'm getting senile. When it's cool I try to clean it up enough so that I can run the cleaning cycle without setting off the alarm but I don't know if I succeed. I continue a project I've been pursuing off and on all day...getting the newspaper and magazine piles under control. With little success. Stopping and reading and not just discarding. That's the problem.

Donna McKechnie is a Broadway Star. Now of an age where she has a few unwanted pounds in unwanted spots and a quality that says 'not young, but how old?' She has put together a one-woman show and is trying it out in the hinterland. How different from SXSW, from the raucous streets we drove through to get to St. Edward's. First we stand outside on the north side of the main building. No sounds of rock and roll penetrate from S. Congress. The skyline is beautifully lit and downtown could be empty. In an elegant room inside we settle in with a drink and here show tunes sung with a bit of dancing about. Donna can really belt the songs. In spite of her age. Which I judge to be about ten years beyond mine. I especially like her rendition of Cole Porter tunes from Can Can. You know: I Love Paris and It's All Right with Me. I'll bet no one in SXSW is playing Cole Porter.

We go home. I try to attack some more papers with mixed results. It was really a great day, the oven nonwithstanding. The weather, the entertainments, the hanging out.