Over this weekend we picked up Norah Jones's new album, Feels Like Home. Everybody and their dog has probably already bought, listened to, and worn out the record by now. It's lovely, relaxed, and fun for the whole family. Seriously, Carly loves it.
Of course, I can't listen to this album without thinking about the guy in the band I know. I played with Adam Levy a few times when he lived in San Francisco, just months before he moved to New York and got this gig-of-a-lifetime with Norah. It's one of those deals where I think two things: one, "I knew him when...", and two, it couldn't have happened to a nicer guy. He's a thankfully genuine, cool person, and a wonderful musician. Duh. I just like to think that success does sometimes come for the people who actually deserve it. Not only that, he still gets to play cool music. It's inspiring to think about.
Lis and Troy came for a brief visit last night through this morning. We went out for a sensible dinner, followed it later on with senseless brownies eaten straight from the pan with plastic forks.
This morning, in a fit of I'm not sure what, we looked over last months search strings for the chellman.org family of websites. Along with links to possibly useful websites, names of friends and family, help cheating on various literary essays, and photos of Chris McCandless, there were lots of searches for amusing garbage:
Ah, the joy of having a website. It never ends.
Lisa and I did some errands on Leap Day that were varying degrees of fun.
The most fun was picking up Lisa's framed pastel drawing. This was the first time we've had something framed by a frame shop. It's not cheap, but considering how long we want this work to last, it's worth it.
The least fun was returning a duvet cover. I didn't know what a duvet was until a year or so ago. Lisa's brother gave us one for Christmas, along with this cover. The duvet is great, we enjoy it thoroughly. The cover didn't really fit the colors of our bedroom, so we figured we'd return it. It came from one of the many stores owned by Saks, so we went to the Carson Pirie Scott in Lincolnwood (a few miles from here, northwest suburbs) to exchange it.
Here's how you return something, step by step.
Eventually we found what we wanted, exchanged the old one, and got out of the store alive. We Americans certainly have it lucky in most respects with the choices we have available, but that doesn't mean it's fun.