can't get enough of this guy

I saw my first baby sloth video earlier this week.

And it's pretty much changed my life.

Sloths are officially one of my favorite animals.

So. Damned. Cute.

Okay, tabling sloths for the moment.

It's Friday evening and I'm at (you guessed it!) The Anchor. This week's been rough with Anchor visits this week: every single day that kid yelling "Hi" has been here. Blake knows how awful it is. And so does Ams, since she went to The Anchor with me one day this week. "God, he's so annoying." It's true. But I've developed a solution: earphones. Whenever he's here, I just strike up Itunes. Yesterday was Local Natives. Today the kid isn't here, maybe run over by a car or something (this is Covington), so I haven't had the need to listen to anything.

I hope I don't come across as heartless.

I don't wish him to be run over by a car or anything.

He's a cute kid, so long as he doesn't talk.

Blake and I went on a date last night: beer and food at Rock Bottom (Blake didn't finish his beer, he couldn't handle it) and caramel apple ciders from T.M. ("It's so nice having free coffee whenever I'm downtown, even if the place is closed." Being Asst. Store Manager has its privileges). We sipped our ciders on a romantic walk through the maze at Fountain Square, and we went into the basement of the Taft Theater (the Ball Room, they call it) for a wondrous solo show by Damien Jurado. His "Greatest Hits" tour (if there is such a thing): a collection of songs from Maraqopa as well as, at least, "Ohio" and "Sheets." Also, Damien is pretty hilarious. Mo was there with some of her friends, so she scuttled over beside me and we watched Jurado rock it out. The sound system was better than what we had at The Basement in Nashville, though Damien seemed to be irritated with it. Also, he said he loves playing in Ohio (a recurring theme with artists, I've found) because we Ohioans seem to take his music at a more personal level. "I write a song in the four walls of my bedroom," he said, "and it comes to Ohio and becomes meaningful." 

Tonight should be pretty great: Mo and I are getting dinner and then heading over to the Loth House for an evening hanging out with the Tazza Mia mates. Brandon and Sarah will definitely be there, maybe Jake, maybe Emily. It's 5:14 and I should probably be heading out of here (want to get in a quick shower before tonight's festivities), but I leave you with this (and, no, it's not related to sloths):

Economics is definitely not my thing.

I've been trying to wrap my head around mercantilism for the past couple days.

It's the economic thought lying behind Britain's unsavory treatment of her colonies.

I know the gist of it quite well, but I want to really know it so the pieces fall together.

That's the best part about history: putting together the puzzle.

My goal for this weekend: "come to terms" with mercantilism. 

This weekend's going to fly by.

Yeah, that was pretty anticlimactic. So, fine, here's a picture of not-your-ordinary sloth. A prehistoric sloth, to be exact, which sported a height three times that of a full-grown adult human. To put it to scale here (farthest on the right):

This begs the question,
"Why the hell is Sid so small in the movie Ice Age?!"