In letters we can reform without practice, beg without humiliation, snip and shape embarrassing experiences to the measure of our own desires.

I called Gina’s home number this morning to see if she wanted to get together for coffee this afternoon, hang out, play with my tablet PC, and exchange books (I just finished Ella Enchanted and she must read it right now). When she hadn’t called me back in about half an hour, I called her cell. Because I am sort of stalker-ish that way.

Deep breath.

HOW COULD I HAVE FORGOTTEN THAT THIS IS THE WEEK SHE IS GOING TO NEW YORK?

And how am I meant to get through this week? Gah! I am pathetic.

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I was hunting down versions of the story of the three little pigs for a patron on Saturday when I realized – doh! –that our library has quite a nice little children’s section, containing many kids’ books I am interested in reading. I was halfway through Ella Enchanted by the end of my lunch hour. Read it. It’s adorable, and funny, and Ella is a terrific and strong heroine. A MUCH better version of the old Cinderella tale than Disney’s.
I also checked out (of the library) Cornelia Funke’s The Thief Lord, Sharon Creech’s Walk Two Moons, Laurie Halse Anderson’s Speak (because I liked her Fever very much), and two EL Konigsburgs: Silent to the Bone, and The Outcasts of 19 Schuyler Place, because I think Konigsburg is a brilliant writer, right up there with Ellen Raskin. I also, God knows why, really, got out a book called Children of the Flames: Dr Josef Mengele and the untold story of the twins at Auschwitz, but I have a feeling this is going to be one of those books I have a very tough time reading.
There are many other books I want to read there – I actually went looking for Frindle first – but hey, they’re not going anywhere. And hopefully neither am I. (Except to maybe Bethlehem, but...shhhh....I can't talk about that right now.)

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Snippets:

I spent more than an hour this afternoon at the coffee shop trying to figure out why my tablet could see and connect to the wireless network but the browser could not. Then some red-haired angel of a man in horrible shoes came along, fired up a DOS window, typed in a command, pinged, and there we were. Ahhhhhh.


My niece K’s eighth birthday party was last night. Is it appropriate to drink appletinis at a birthday party for children? The theme was “Wicked,” and all the kids got little green goodie bags full of things like green M&Ms and green beads. The adults got appletinis. I don’t know, this seems fair to me.


I showed up at 6:30, after work, ate dinner and cake, nursed the baby, and took him home by 8. Segundo said to me that he wanted to go home with me but when the time came for me to vamoose (i.e., when my MIL had driven me far enough up the frigging wall), he was down in the basement playing with the other kids, so I left him there with his dad and Primo. Apparently the mother of all tantrums ensued. And H and I recall now that for Primo, it was not so much the Terrible Twos as the Terrible Threes. God help us all. Seggie turns three next Saturday.


It’s official – I have another sinus infection, coupled with an ear infection. I am sucking down amoxicillin AGAIN, and Afrin – but have been sternly warned by my sweet and oh-so-young doctor to not take it for more than three days because it’s addictive. If she were to tell me that about my chocolate addiction, perhaps I could drop some of the weight?


“Everyone” is saying that Mary Winkler was “the perfect wife.”
Sigh.
That scares me.
What possesses anyone to try to be the perfect wife?
I suppose only time will tell. If we ever find out.
(*I* wouldn’t want to be the perfect wife. Good, yes, but perfect? No. That’s just - scary. And leads to things like homicide. Or Yatesian acts of horror.
I’ll settle for being a flawed but *try*-ing wife. (And I do not mean trying in that sense of the word. Sigh. Most days.))


I hate weekends for bloggers. Everybody else apparently has a life. I? Do not. Weekends are when I have the most time to blog. And read blogs. Sigh. Can’t you accommodate ME for a change?