Yesterday I received a bunch of photographs of ZBD from HEBD. I will brook no argument on this point: she is the most beautiful child ever born. Wanting to share them, I called TJZ, as it was too late in France by then. The git was at the beach (grrr) but called me back soon. I said "Hello?" and she exclaimed, "Lis!" and I responded "Trude!" I've got to become more disciplined about not responding to "Lis," but it's hard to give someone a withering stare without video conferencing. Oh yeah, or that in-person thing. We dissected everyone, as usual, and, also as usual since we actually speak about once a year, comment that it's been almost eleven years. Anyway. I told her how beautiful ZBD is and today I mailed her the photographs with strict instruction to return them promptly as I cannot be parted from them for long.
In addition to the O'Keeffe sunflower card for TJZ, I wrote--scrawled--a letter to HEBD, which I have to transcribe, of course, but I might send her a printed one too. My handwriting is nigh-eligible at this point. Also I found a great card for DEDBG, who wants to be encouraged in her writing. Yeah, HAO too; could it be my influence that four of my friends including me have either given up or are stuck in permanent procrastination mode about their M.A.s? I didn't even finish the coursework; I don't like to think what I'd've have done with my oral exams or how long I'd've postponed a thesis if that had been the option. And it's unfair to assign HAO thus; she only just finished her coursework. Anyway. The card is filled with positive encouraging adjectives, all of which added together and stirred up still are inadequate to describe DEDBG, insert hero-worship here.
I finished The Crying of Lot 49 and mean to start Hopeful Monsters soon. And I rode my bike today again, this time forgetting to bring my sandals. And did I, tonight, get all my stuff ready to prevent that happening again? No.
I realized my problem while locking my bike, and considered what the opinion of all-day-long biking sneakers would be, but the very first person I ran into at work has my size feet and even had a pair of sandals with her. A good Samaritan. And RDC met me on the corner by late morning with my own sandals.
As soon as I got home from work, RDC and I took a swim and then basked in the late afternoon sun. I love the contrast of temperatures. And we scrubbed the car: our low-end Tercel has a cheap grade of vinyl that degrades somehow, leaving a film of polymer on the inside of the windows. Plus we realized tonight that the stupid hood that the stupid dealership put on after the other brother Darryl dented the original one isn't rust-proofed. Swine.
We've begun to receive The New York Review of Books. Plus I got a subscription offer to The Nation, with my name alone, spelled with the New York Review of Books wrongness. The Nation subscription we received as a wedding present has our first names hyphenated and his last name (which makes it easy to see whom The Nation sells our name to). Newsprint though it be, The Nation for all its liberal posing still buys into the corporate privacy-stealing name-selling scam, obviously enough. And when it buys names, it can't tell who's subscribed already and who hasn't by matching addresses.
Back to NYRB. A review of The Worst Journey in the World, about a trek through Antarctica; an essay about all the many books published about Holocaust experiences; an essay by Stephen Jay Gould. And it's weekly. I won't feel so lost with this, even so far away from the Co-op.
When we scrubbed the car I got to Armor-All the dashboard. The smell of that will always remind me of an afternoon in RJH's office, when he was polishing everything in sight, especially things that shouldn't've been, mostly to make me laugh. (Before then I had thought Armor-All was something like Spam, that people made jokes of but didn't actually use). He had found a bunch of fake-leather desk accessories at the White Elephant sale that summer and therefore buffed his desk blotter's vinyl corners particularly carefully. I miss him.
Grocery-shopping today, RDC bought paper towels without noticing until he got home that they have nursery rhymes printed on them. Jessie Wilcox Smith must be spinning in her grave to see Mother Goose so degraded.
I haven't talked to CLH in over a week. I have to find out when Robin's wedding is and take that Friday off to spend the weekend in Aspen with CLH. I don't know if DAO is going but even if he is I am sure I can find something to do during nuptial hours. Plus I have to tell her we're not going to CT in August and that I want to see EKH and ABW the weekend of my mother's wedding. Dunno how.
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Last modified 1 July 1997
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