Saturday Hey, Ceej…

Saturday

Hey, Ceej has discovered Columbine. I think all of the journallers I read regularly now read Columbine. Soon they'll all read Shmuel too. And of them all, only Heather and Shmuel and Columbine read me. (Okay, there aren't so many more I read regularly. Basically Xeney and Ceej, with some others thrown in for spice. But Heather and Shmuel and Columbine hardly count, since they already knew me...I still check British Alex's journal every day even though the bugger hasn't updated in a month). This has been a minor burst of self-pity. Don't worry, it was just a shower. The sky's clearing up already.

I'm tempted to write a whole self-reflexive thing about how self-reflexive my journalling has gotten lately, how much attention I pay to how others are writing theirs, how much I think about whether what I write will be interesting or funny or revealing. But I think that would really just contribute to the problem, so y'all can just extrapolate from the above. You've probably noticed anyway.

Karina arrives today! That's what I should be writing about...not that there's so much to say yet, since she doesn't get here 'til 4. Around 2:30 we're going to head out (David and Heather are driving me to the airport); I'll stop and pick up some flowers first. It's not sunny, which is a bit sad -- I'd hoped to take her sailing for an hour or so tomorrow, but I can't if it rains. Wish for sun, everyone. She's never been sailing before (and never with me, which, let me tell you, is a thrill-a-minute experience (Can Mary Anne remember how to tie an bowline? Does the tiller go left or right here? Will we crash onto the rocks? (I'm not exaggerating; if you look back in the journal, you'll find the story of the time David and Mary Anne crashed on the rocks) Will we simply capsize the boat?)).

Hard time motivating this morning. There's e-mail to do, laundry to do, always homework to do, but I really just want to crawl into bed. And a reporter for some SF paper is calling me at 10 (it's 8:30 now) to talk about COPA, and I really should do some more research before she calls, because she's read my editorial on it in Clean Sheets, and that's pretty much all I know about it. I think I'm going to have some tea, start the laundry, read up on recent developments in COPA, and then crawl into bed for a bit. My teddy bears look lonely.

(I have two teddy bears. One is a medium-sized bear, pale brown, very good for hugging. My sister gave him to me when I went away to college. His name is Bear. The other is a little more than hand-sized English bear, curly brown fur with a tiny bow tie. I got him in my Christmas stocking this year at Kevin's parents'. I spent a while trying to come up with a good name for him, and then settled on Teddy. I don't know what I'll do if I get another one. All the good names are now taken.)

Until later, my dears.

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