drone and yawn...

When I lived alone in Victoria, one of the first things I would do when I walked through the front door after stripping down to my scanties (I was always bloody hot when I got home) was turn on Toshi, my fourteen inch flatscreen ultradeluxe television. I don't like the sounds of an empty house when I first come home... it's very unsettling. Especially the drone of the fridge.

Today I came home to an empty house. I arrived home late and everyone in the house was out as apparently that is what everyone does on Friday nights. I wasn't alone for too long... just as I was heading off to bed my younger brother came home from his dance and told me a few entertaining stories about how he was teaching his fellow students the classic lawnmower dance, bring in the plane, and the hot oven. He also told me that all of his teachers thought he was very Miami Vice in his linen suit... and that his friend had a breakdance off with someone who couldn't break dance, and another friend was dancing with the waitress who apparently had some moves. Oh the youthful exuberance of 15 year olds.

Anyhow, I'm off to bed. I spent the afternoon in the sun at a rather dull golf tournament because I was slightly "stranded" in Taylor. The highway was closed and I was not going to take the 45 minute dusty detour back into Fort St. John. So I hung out and took photos and yawned excessively as I'm doing now. Hence why I'm heading off to sleep.