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Crazy, all the lovers have been tagged
Apr. 11th, 2006 08:42 amAaaaaaand, we're back.
I spent the weekend on Long Island with DYA and her dear friends, playing pretend uncle to 5- and 7- year old girls who (of course were cute because really anything in a smaller form is adorable, even humans, but also) were hilarious and charming. Perhaps my favorite part was on Monday afternoon, after spending two and half days with them, Chloe, the 5 yo, who was my teammate for the skeleton board game that she was slightly too young for, looked at me with this grin and said, "hey, what's your name?" I know her mom had mentioned it dozens of times before, but this was Chloe herself taking a sincere interest in wanting to know who I was. I took at as a sign that she was digging me.
I also spent the weekend (and plane rides) reading The Feast of Love by Charles Baxter though I'm not quite done, but I'll finish it today because it's a quick read and also because, uh, I love it. Damn you, Charlie Baxter. I'm a sucker.
I return to my regular world and learn that Seymour Hersh has managed to finally, maybe, convince the CNN crowd that Bush is, uh, scary and messianic. Breaking news! I joke because I fear.
I got up early to play catch up on some paperwork and e-mails. It's my spring break. Spring Break! Which actually for me means doing lots of work, only of the unpaid variety, of the soul-quenching variety, of the 'oh yeah, this is what I'm supposed to be doing with my life' variety, of the "let's advance my true calling' variety. Or whatever. Except it's already Tuesday. Damn. Ok, I can do this, even in only 5 days. That's still a lot of time.
I spent the weekend on Long Island with DYA and her dear friends, playing pretend uncle to 5- and 7- year old girls who (of course were cute because really anything in a smaller form is adorable, even humans, but also) were hilarious and charming. Perhaps my favorite part was on Monday afternoon, after spending two and half days with them, Chloe, the 5 yo, who was my teammate for the skeleton board game that she was slightly too young for, looked at me with this grin and said, "hey, what's your name?" I know her mom had mentioned it dozens of times before, but this was Chloe herself taking a sincere interest in wanting to know who I was. I took at as a sign that she was digging me.
I also spent the weekend (and plane rides) reading The Feast of Love by Charles Baxter though I'm not quite done, but I'll finish it today because it's a quick read and also because, uh, I love it. Damn you, Charlie Baxter. I'm a sucker.
I return to my regular world and learn that Seymour Hersh has managed to finally, maybe, convince the CNN crowd that Bush is, uh, scary and messianic. Breaking news! I joke because I fear.
I got up early to play catch up on some paperwork and e-mails. It's my spring break. Spring Break! Which actually for me means doing lots of work, only of the unpaid variety, of the soul-quenching variety, of the 'oh yeah, this is what I'm supposed to be doing with my life' variety, of the "let's advance my true calling' variety. Or whatever. Except it's already Tuesday. Damn. Ok, I can do this, even in only 5 days. That's still a lot of time.
