Friday night. Lunch with the cousins and their kids tomorrow (“kids”, as in their twenties, one about to be married, one playing in Pamie's territory, both working in Los Angeles in the entertainment business, up here for Thanksgiving), writing this with a small flask of sake under my belt. I discover, if I buy two of the small flask size bottles of Ozeki, I drink the two of them in an evening and don't rationalize consuming more as the larder (how clever) is now empty. When and if I ever start getting in the car feeling little pain after consuming my two flasks for a replenishment run I'll have to write another dozen “oh, god, I've got to give it up altogether” entries, but no more than two is a nice way to make the evening go by without angst the next morning. And believe me, it makes the (aching) head feel better.
This is about your fiftieth entry on how you'd really like to keep it to two if you possibly could, my friend.
I notice you're not complaining, no kicking and screaming, when I pull another bottle out of the oven.
Saturday. I met the cousins and the kids (and the new member of the family to be, now they've announced their wedding day) at the Ferry building in San Francisco, a bus trip up to Union Square, a walk over to Chinatown for an excellent lunch (I was worried there weren't more Asians eating in the restaurant, but the food was excellent), a walk back for a quick look at Macy's (the crowds, my people, the crowds!) a BART ride back home for a quick cafe latté at Peet's, a drive by Beverages and More for sake, sitting here now close to five in the afternoon thinking I've come pretty close to surviving another day, here in Oakland.