odd; is my head supposed to throb in time to mr. roboto?

high score last night: 139.
all scores: (saturday with the kids, 116,118) sunday 128, 139, 99, 125, 109, 117.
why am i not getting any better? is it truly because i don't have my own ball, or should i take lessons, or is it possible that i just have already hit my high score (156) and am destined never to bowl better than that? i need to know if it's a lost cause, so i can drown my sorrows in sweet tea. last night i had two bailey's before we left for dinner and i had most of a guinness at applebee's. mostly because i don't like applebee's. and they didn't have yuengling. i had chicken alfredo that had no taste.
was sick at work today. not like barfing in the dumpster sort of sick (although if the store had smelled like that nasty squid stuff from the asian market next door it would have been a possibility). the sickness was more of a severe allergy problem that made my head all cloudy and icky, and when that dried up a little my throat and ear started hurting. i stayed for 5 1/2 hours of my 8 hour shift. afterward i stopped by mr. jacoby's bookstore to see if he had any of the books that luke recommended. this time i came with a list. he couldn't find any except the orchid thief (which i bought for $6 almost new), but i am to call his wife tomorrow and she'll check the warehouse. and he invited me to an invite-only saturday morning sale, where about 2,000 books will be sold for a buck a piece. ahh, the most beautiful part of a rummage sale. the cheap books. christen will kill me; he'll also be there with me if i don't let him sleep while i hoard.
i also bought look homeward, angel, which i've been itching to read ever since asheville. i always forget to look for a copy when i'm at a bookstore, and just books is so deliciously well-organized. he thoughtfully reminded me of my wish to buy him out when he retired and i also thoughtfully reminded him of my lack of funds with which to purchase said bookstore.
my book of the day was tender at the bone, by ruth reichl. it was a wonderful book, easily the most satisfying read in awhile. it's a memoir by a food critic who decided she could learn who people are and what they mean to her by what they eat and where they like to eat it. me: seasoned but not spicy, and eclectic. that's me, through and through. give me bread and something to dip it in and i'm happy.

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