Amazing: self has discovered that she can actually operate as a credible semblance of a human being, even with no sleep. At all. For that reason alone, today should be a very very very good day. (Just imagine, however, how much better and how much more productive self could be if she’d had at least four hours — !!! Gnashing of teeth)
Self has some very good news to share with dear blog readers: A short piece, “Appetites,” has just been accepted for Café Irreal’s Issue # 31 (Yaaay !!!) The site’s editors are currently visiting Prague, home of the greatest short story writer in the world, Franz Kafka.
And today, in contrast to yesterday, when the backyard was filled with men climbing our trees and conducting noisy conversations, self has the garden all to herself again: it is quiet, peaceful.
Cute Hugh Dancy was on The View, promoting a rom-com in which he plays someone with Tourette’s (Oh. Self thought for a minute he’d been cast in the adaptation of the Jonathan Lethem novel). The thing about this actor is, he is cute. But self didn’t like that he left undone the top buttons of his white shirt, thereby providing ever-so-teensy peek of very dark chest hair. Ever since self’s first gynecologist, who went by the name Dr. Bozo (Kaiser — wonder if he is still there?), materialized in examination room with shirt unbuttoned and profuse chest hair (in which was nestled a gold chain), self has viewed men who leave the top buttons of their shirts undone as somewhat tacky.
Oooh, self hears the day’s mail drop into the slot: better go see if there’s anything more exciting than the latest issue of The Economist or The New Yorker! To tell the truth, self can barely keep her eyes open, dear blog reader. She didn’t get a wink of sleep last night. She doesn’t know what happened to cause this latest bout of insomnia, only that hubby and she drove over to the Dairy Queen on Woodside Road, around 10 p.m., and hubby had a strawberry sundae, while self had pineapple and banana. We haven’t done this for a long, looong time. But it felt good for we had finally had answered the question that had been nagging at us all summer: is the orange tree well and truly unsalvageable? And whose fault is it? (Answer A: Yes. Answer B: Fungus)
Anyhoo, self thinks it highly unlikely that eating an ice cream sundae at 10 p.m. can lead to insomnia. The more likely culprit would be the scenes of chickens and pigs being slaughtered in the movie she saw earlier, “Food, Inc.” Or the persistent, dull ache in her right shoulder.
Stay tuned, dear blog readers, stay tuned.
Kanlaon 