26 February, 2007


I was sitting with my feet tucked behind the legs of my chair just now, and I happened to glance down and catch sight of them.

Oh my GOD was the underside of my heel BLACK. It looked as though I'd spent the whole day running around barefoot on new asphalt. That wouldn't normally be a cause for concern, as running around barefoot on asphalt is something I do with a fair degree of frequency, but today I was busy and it was cold and I'd worn shoes and socks for the whole day. It was so cold, in fact, that I hadn't even taken off my socks when I got home... Wait a minute.

On closer examination, the abnormal coloration of my feet proved to be caused by the dark green socks I was wearing.

21 February, 2007

Even horrible inconsiderate people need to be loved

A minute ago, a car drove into the parking lot next to our apartment with its stereo blaring and stopped right next to Susanna's window. She looked over, listened for a minute, and then yelled (softly) "You're cool, man!" I started laughing, and she looked over, shrugged, and said, "I thought he might need the reassurance."

Oh, the pain

How Best To Not Study For a Midterm:

The night before your midterm, around 9.30, hear a tortured-sounding phone conversation downstairs in the laundromat. Investigate.

Discover a chubby 19-year-old boy with two days' beard and a flannel jacket sobbing on the phone to someone. Hide behind the washing machines until the pain in his voice becomes too much to bear. Rush over and give him a hug.

At this point he will hang up on his mother, invite you to sit down on the bench next to him, and proceed to tell you why he's sobbing. It is a long story.

Invite him up to your couch, where his story will continue with an account of how he caught five butterflies and stored them in a cup so that he could wake his belovèd with a room full of butterflies on Valentine's Day.

Kick him out around 10.30 so that you can study for aforementioned midterm. Spend the next forty-five minutes rehashing the conversation with your roommate. Write blog post.

I'm not supposed to invite strange men up to our apartment anymore.

20 February, 2007

Rain. Wait, sun. No, rain. Wait...

The weather has been gloriously schizophrenic here lately. I have, of course, been taunting my friends on the East Coast and in Europe with the fact that it's been 70 and sunny (I went for a swim in the ocean on Friday. It was wonderful), but it's also been pouring rain. Today, for example, when I woke up the sky was blue and there were happy puffy white clouds, but when I finally got out of the house around 11.45 the mountains were shrouded in ominous-looking grey clouds and now it looks like it's going to rain any minute. This has happened at least twice in the past few days.

Really, this is ideal. It's warm often enough that I can do happy outside-y swimming-in-the-ocean type things, but then when I've gotten tired of that I get to curl up inside with a blanket and a cup of tea and watch it rain. Also, things dry out enough between each storm that we get the fresh-rain smell EVERY TIME. It's awfully nice here.

14 February, 2007

Oh, France

13 February, 2007

I Have A Cold -or- Sometimes It's Better Not To Be Able To Smell

This morning I was in the shower when Jay came in. "I took the trash out," he said.
"That's nice."
"It smells like rotting milk. Did you throw out any dairy products recently?"
"I guess I threw out an empty milk carton about a week ago."
"That must be it, then... it's disgusting."
"I see."
"Wait, can't you smell it? You've got to be able to smell it. It's horrible. I almost projectile vomited as I was taking the trash out."
"Nope! I have a cold! I can't smell a thing!"

It smelled so bad, apparently, that when we saw Susanna in dance class this afternoon she sheepishly owned up to having thrown out a rotting chicken over the weekend.

I'm home again now, and I still can't smell anything.

Jay can, though. He's buying a better trash can tomorrow.


04 February, 2007

Theresa's rendition of her littlest cousin

Rabbit gon' get my TOES!

Up! Up!