birthday countdown: 14 days.
oh. my. god. it's been crazy insane hot today. like, nearly 100° hot. this is Not Good.
the emotional exhaustion from the last few days has caught up with me, as well. plus there are just wayyyyy too many words running around in my head. i want to write, really i do. but my brain is seeping out my ears.
ChicaBeanie called this morning so we could go to the gym. it would have been a good idea, in retrospect. they have air conditioning there. AC is good. but i burbled something lame at her and went back to sleep.
this is how hot it is: the idea of a sheet over me makes me mental. normally, i can't sleep without at least a sheet over my feet. call me crazy, but i have this idea that something will leap out from under the bed and attack my feet if they aren't covered. fine, fine, it's not rational. spectres of the Boogie Monster rarely are.
today, i was all fine with my feet being eaten. didn't matter that i was lying there in the altogether with the fan directly on me. i couldn't get cool, or comfortable, to save my life. i sweat for a few hours, trying to sleep in and having bizzare dreams (funny what the subconscious will feed you when you least expect it). then i got up. and what did i do? i moved to the couch to nap. yup, that's all i had the energy for.
i did come to a bit later, in time to watch the Sox. yee ha! aw, love my boys... three games down - almost there for a four game sweep of the Rangers. yay! i also found enough energy to paint my toes deep purple. yes, i am in touch with my Inner Girliness, thankyouverymuch. ;)
when the game was over, i caught Office Space, which makes me laugh every time. i'm pretty sure that the guy who plays the neighbor is the guy from Drew Carey, but haven't bothered to find out for sure.
whoo. *sweating* okay, you know? this sucks.
oooo - started reading The Blue Bedspread recently. i should share a little quote with you, because it's such a great book. the main character is a man in Calcutta who has his sister's orphaned daughter for just one night, before she's adopted, and he's writing stories for her.
I put you down on the bed, place two pillows on either side of you to rest your tiny hands, each smaller than my finger. The time has come, I go to my room, take out the paper, they placed the wood on her body, one log at a time, the thinck ones on the bottom, the thin ones at the top, I have had these sheets of paper for quite some time, the ones at the top are yellow at the edges, the ones below are still qhite and crisp, the priest asked me to hold the splinter and walk around the pyre, I could begin with my name but why waste time, she begins to burn, they poured oil, the wood made noises, the van was lit by her flames, I write about my trousers, their white lining, the smoke gets into my eyes. There isn't much time, the man and the woman are coming to take you tomorrow, the fire was still burning when we left, let me tell you about the doctor with arms as white as milk, I am seven years old, she was gone, you were waiting at the hospital, why should I cry?
i'm about halfway thru the book now, and eager to finish it. Raj Kamal Jha paints amazing word pictures.
oh, and i'm kind of sad that another book i loved, Are You Somebody? by Nuola O'Faolain, didn't really click for a friend of mine. i found Nuola's writing to be lyrical, and adored her story. it's not an easy one to read, but she opens up her heart in such an amazing way that i thought everyone would love it. hrm. lynell just found it too sad to finish. i still say it's worth reading.
okay, i feel like the Wicked Witch of the West. i need to go find a way to cool off. y'all stay cool, too.