Becoming Angel (Eating Like A Greedy Pig Human)(And Music)

So, tonight, in honor of the fact two white boys got to take the day off work for Martin Luther King Jr. Day, the Boyfriend is making one of his kick-ass pizzas, with homemade dough and homemade sauce and pretty much anything good you can think of on top of it. Last night, I made mondo-burritos, with homemade mashed beans and garlic and butter and cilantro with onions and tomatoes and avocados and sour cream and that was pretty amazing, not to mention filling. Saturday, I made my most superior and healing Chicken Soup, because the Boyfriend was feeling poorly, with chicken and celery and carrots and rainbow chard and tons of garlic and onions and spices. Friday night, after a long weeks working, we just went out to the local Chinese buffet for veggie sushi and spring rolls and egg rolls and whatever looked good. So, I’ve been eating fairly heartily for a semi-ethereal angelic being.

Vegetables and Protein, it seems, are what is necessary for the human body to transform into the holy. Fruit not so much. I like fruit. I just don’t ever crave it, like I do healthy vegetables and healthy proteins, all the time it seems, or at least very, very often, because apparently it takes a lot of protein to build the muscle to carry the weight of the wings and the halo, and it takes a lot of vitamins and minerals to actually be able to power the damn things up and get them working.

And in between meals, I’m trying to transfer all my zillions of CDs over into iTunes, because I fear hardcopy anything is on its way out the door, and dammit, every piece of music I’ve collected over the years is somehow necessary and holy, dammit, and I need to have back-ups and the ability to listen to whatever I want in my home, my car, or on my portable music player of choice. But then, of course, iTunes will go away or transform into something else, and I’ll be right back where I started. I’ll be like those sad old guys you see today who still have walls and walls of old LPs from the 60s and refuse to let them go.

I have gone, in my lifetime, from radio to 45s to LPs to 8-tracks to cassettes to CDs and now I’m trying to adjust to digital transfers and MP3s, but dammit, I like having something to hold in my hand while I listen to it in my ear.

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