Here’s my weekend so far:

I set out on my own to an American Art Museum. I got caught in the rain on the way there. The sky quickly opened up and the heavens thundered down upon DC with all their might. I took shelter under an overhang by the MLK public library, and used the opportunity to snap some photos.

Dripping wet and drenched from head to toe I entered the Smithsonian. There were some fabulous exhibitions going on at the time – and the ceaseless squishing of my saturated shoes on the marble floor only enhanced the experience that much more. Damn, that rhymes! I should write a children’s book.

Well, I wasn’t sooooo soaked that I couldn’t dry out… I eventually did, but not before my feet turned into the pruniest, wrinkliest things I had ever seen. I took a picture, but I shan’t put it on here – it’s too appalling.

We played some cards last night and had a general good time. Tonight we’re having a potluck. Well, there’ll be a potluck, anyway – even if my roommates and I aren’t hosting it. I’m bringing roast chicken. I’m pretty psyched about it. It’s in the oven right now. Duhn duhn duhn!

When I was preparing it, I finally thought about the chicken for what it really was. The carcass of a dead animal. I was trying to put some garlic under its skin, but I was having trouble. I thought to myself – “You know seefox, you could just make a cut where you want to slip the garlic in… I mean, it’s not like this dead chicken’s going to feel it, or even mind at all.”

I held the chicken the way it would have walked, and imagined what it would’ve looked like with a head, wings, legs, and feathers. Then I thought about my friend Lucy’s old rooster and how it was always pecking people. Man, am I glad I’m not a chicken.

Happy 1st of June.