before & after

Thank you for your gracious help. Today there was a rainbow. Some chick was on npr singing "I remember you." As marian mcpartland noted, she got lost in the song.

haircut? votes?

the twelfth day

I am happy to rest this weekend.

This morning was moist. I realized that I would like to be on a ship with the ocean breeze on my face, doing yoga. Then, later, I realized that somewhere in my dreams last night somebody had named their child "Jordan Marsh." Queer. Then, later than that, it rained. I was at work. A number of us were excited. We none of us could remember the last time it rained. I feel another cold developing (apparently colds have parallel capabilities, since my last cold remains yet), but I am hoping it is a response to the change in air pressure and will ease off without attacking my tonsils.

It's kind of worth it, anyway. I am sick of being sick, but rain is cool. Last night I finished Pride and Prejudice (1995: 5 hours long in total) and I'm a little nervous. I mean, how do you follow Colin Firth? Neil is at the supermarket and hot toddy ingredients are on his list, so hopefully that will help me through this distressful period.

Plus I have a few versions of Sense and Sensibility, Mansfield Park and Emma that are as yet unseen ... but I am trying to pace myself. I was thinking the other day about how I wish somebody would make some really good adaptations of Edith Wharton novels (anything with Gillian Anderson does NOT qualify) ... and then, gradually, it occurred to me that it's OK that every single terrific book hasn't been adapted into at least three terrific movie versions ... because I can just READ the books.

It is revelations like these that remind me that returning to college in the fall may be a tad beyond my capabilities.

But that's late August. And now it's the weekend. And I just worked 12 days and if right now I just want to read The Nine and softly blow my nose and smile at Neil and whatever, that's OK.

And also, Sacha Baron Cohen is not funny.

Sunday Night

I worked today. After work I went home. I ran/walked 2 miles, which is far, far more exercise than I've had in the last 6 weeks.

When I got home I hurried to turn my heaving, red, sweaty self into something wedding-appropriate. Because I need to be at one in 60 minutes. Across town. And then I realized the toilet wasn't flushing. So, between combing my sticky, salty hair, slipping into a lbd, and attempting to mask the smell of sweat with secret solid, I poured bleach into the toilet bowl and, 10 minutes later, flushed.

Still didn't flush. Well. I did not have time for this and certainly would not have time for it getting ready for work tomorrow morning. I decided to deal with it when I got home from the wedding. And also, I knew I was hungry sort of and I knew I have a little problem with low blood sugar, so I put two frozen jelly donut holes in my mouth on the way out and gave myself a pat on the back.

In the car I called my landlord (who lives in the guesthouse) just to see if their toilet was having difficulties too. You know, is it my problem or a problem with the whole line? My landlord inquired as to what had happened when I plunged it.

Plunged it?

The moral of which is: Two donut holes are not enough.

Although, technically, I just got home and am sitting here in my lbd and have not plunged it. So maybe it won't work anyway. But it had better. At the wedding each guest got a little folded piece of paper with a live butterfly inside, to release after the vows were exchanged. I was worried. I let my butterfly out ahead of time but 20 minutes later it was still hobbling across the grass.

I miss Neil. Bye.

P.S. Do butterflies have hearts? Do caterpillars have hearts? Do caterpillars have like 15 hearts? I will investigate.