Sorry about yesterday,…

Sorry about yesterday, folks. Computer crashed, and I was in a rush, so I didn't have time to fix it.

The visit is going well so far. Lots of work on eHow stuff Thursday, Friday and this morning, but interspersed with pleasant time at bookstores (it's so nice to be able to stop working and page through a cookbook for a bit!) and at home. Good dinner at Bankok Thai on Thursday, and last night we cooked -- grilled sliced red onion, yellow bell pepper, and chicken with herbs and olive oil; served over toasted French bread spread with pesto, accompanied by hearty tomato soup with corn and bell peppers. Very satisfying, and now we have leftovers for lunch. :-)

It's odd the things we talk about sometimes. I found an IQ book at the bookstore and we took their emotional stability test at the end. I expected Kevin to rate much higher than I do -- he seems such a calm, quiet person. But in fact, I came out as 'Steady' (about 3 down from the most stable, 'Imperturable'), and he came out a few down from that, below 'Average', though I forget the exact term. He says he gets pretty nervous and upset -- he's just so private that nobody ever knows about it.

I also seem to have a fair bit more confidence in myself than he does, which bewilders me, 'cause he seems so competent. But he pointed out that he actively hates doing things like calling up the phone company and dealing with messed up charges, and will avoid that sort of thing like the plague. I usually take that sort of nonsense in stride. It's interesting.

Finally watched "Chinatown" last night (had rented it with Lisette, but never got around to watching). Kevin owns it. Good movie, but I was pretty upset at the end. Don't know if I'll watch it again. But now at least I'll understand what they're talking about when all those screenplay books reference and analyze it. Glad Kev was there to cheer me up afterwards.

I should get back to work, so I'll leave you with a poem I drafted on the airplane. Have a good weekend, my dears.

Flying to Salt Lake

Silver-grey at sunset,
the planes wait patiently.
I come to them again
and again. I wait in
unforgiving chairs with cell-
phoned businessmen, religious
zealots loudly arguing, and
young couples with babies --
tired and smiling. I leave
so much undone: the garden
unwatered, the lunch dishes
stacked in the sink, the phone
ringing as I walk out the door,
as I run to the gate,
as I fly to meet my
blond-haired boy with heart full
and fluttering.

How many more
evenings in cold airports?
The sun sets, the plane lifts.
I remind myself --
I have always loved flying.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *