null

I had such the marvelous day.

I woke up late after a night of pleasant dreams and chatted with a girl I'm absolutely enamored of while waking up. Outside, the day was unfolding in that beautifully hectic way that one of the first marvelously beautiful spring days of the year always will.

After getting showered and thoroughly woke up, I called my favorite hobosexual MisterSatan and confirmed we were still on for lunch. I had to venture into the wilds of Ballard to retrieve him, and when I got there, he looked very much worthy of his crown of King of the Hobos. Also, he was apparently attacked by an army of gay ninja stylist monkeys that did terrible, terrible things to his hair. I politely kept my snickering to a minimum.

We once again attacked Philadelphia Fevre--this time for pizza-cheesesteaks and cheese fries. The cheese fries came out super-crunchy-cooked, and I was in rapture. MisterSatan was able to finally defeat the meal and earn a reprieve from my taunting. While there, I gained control of the television, and forced us to watch Monster Garage, truck racing on Speedvision, and some incredibly hot woman doing terribly erotic things with chicken breast and prosciutto. After lunch, I had a butterscotch Tasty Kake and proclaimed it to in fact be one tasty cake in my best Sam Jackson voice.

After a leisurely drive and dropping the hobosexual off at his place, I veered into downtown Seattle. I became incredibly excited to see that Bon-Macy's had Ben Sherman stuff. Seeing that Nordstrom had Seven For All Mankind jeans made me seriously consider a diet. I'd have probably had a coronary if I'd have found some Camper shoes. The very hot sales girl in pinstripe pants was more than happy to discuss new face cleaners with me--and I smiled thinking of how many people would lock onto what I was doing and try to deride me for it. I picked up a sky blue Lacoste polo that I'm just in love with.

Next I went shopping for a gift for my new lady friend. I already knew what I wanted to get her, but I had to visit several shops to assemble things. In each shop, the cute saleswomen were regaled with tales of my gift, and in each shop, there was much ooing, ahing, and general appreciation of my thoughtfulness. I hate to say it, but I liked the attention.

Then it was time for provender. I picked up some vanilla bean ice cream and cultured butter at Beecher's Cheese. Pike Place Fish had the most marvelous white prawns. The guy that got my prawns for me threw in an extra handful once he had the bunch weighed and stamped--"couple extra," he said with a smile and a wink. Pasta & Co. yielded pesto tortellini, creamy tomato and garlic sauce, kalamata olives, and olive rolls. Whole Foods yielded morbier cheese, pink lady apples, and pecans. The guy at the wine shop was so excited that I asked for Elk Cove pinot noir by name--"I love that cherry note!"--that he dug out a slightly older and higher-rated bottle and gave it to me for the price of a 2002 bottle. I got Voss water--which excited me in that "Seattle is really growing up" way--and Afri-Cola and Le Petit Ecolier cookies elsewhere. I was so happy and pleased at my shopping.

On the drive home, I heard the most amazing new song from Franz Ferdinand ("Take Me Out") and gushed about it to everyone that I saw. Nearing home, I saw someone in a Ferrari F360, rolled down my window at the light, and talked to him about the car for a second. God I love those.

I changed into lay-about clothes when I got home--smiling in the mirror at my wind-tussled hair. I put on a loop of MP3s from Rob Dougan, Royksopp, Death In Vegas, Stereolab, Zero 7, Massive Attack, and the Supreme Beings of Leisure. Then I kicked back on my balcony and watched the world go by.

My new lady friend came online. Telling her about my day only seemed to make her more attracted to me--especially my taste in food. She confirmed her level of rad several times, and it was good. I spoke to other people, and they seemed genuinely happy at my day and how childishly enthused I get about having a good day.

Dinner was simply terrific. The wine went incredibly well with the pasta. The prawns sauted in that cultured butter were firm, muscular, and absolutely perfect. Even the ice cream that I'm still licking at off and on was as good as advertised on a bed of little schoolboy cookies and accompanied by epicurean German cola.

I don't indulge like this often, but today it was nice to have taste. People actually smiled today and got excited to hear about what you were doing. They did nice things for me just because I was there and smiling and jabbering in that rumbling, indistinct voice of mine. I had several hot girls compliment me or moon over me, and I only cursorily noticed any of them because I'm so locked on this new girl. People that I love and cherish were pleasant today and excited that I was excited.

It was a good day in the most Ice-Cube sense of things.