Speaking Confidentially: 10 October 1997

K. is for Kafka

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treeOphthamology and Oafishness

Today I walked over to my ophthamologist to check up on my GPC. I had considered taking the car or finding a bus but the walk was nice, particularly since I curtailed my afternoon walk yesterday. My hair had hurt since I left the house, because my braid had loosened, pulling my leather barrette off my scalp, and I couldn't fix it, so then when my batteries died, I called it a day and went home. My hair is heavy. Anyway, so I walked this morning, almost a mile in each direction, and learned that my eyes are not completely better and may never be but that I should wean myself off my drops and, in several weeks, experiment with lenses again. Laser-PRK, here I come. By the time I can reasonably afford it, the procedure will probably be cheaper and even safer. So if I do have to wear glasses for several years, at least I am certain that this is a surgery I will have, one day.

I don't like to think what was wrong with me on the way back to work. I know I don't readily recognize people out of context, but this was ridiculous. I was in Capitol Hill, an old residential area, when I saw a woman walking a dog who greeted me happily.* We began to chat. I must have had my brain completely shut off, because I was sure this was K. from DU. It was the wrong dog, for one thing; K. has a sheepdog and this was a chow. And I knew K. lives northwest of downtown, but here she was walking her dog five miles from home. And if I had been paying any attention, I should have noticed that this woman didn't have K.'s lustrous, enthralling voice. To my considerable embarrassment, my companion was the one to figure out I had no idea whom I was talking to. She was a different K., from my class at MSCD. The only thing that saved me from a mortal case of humiliation was that I had asked her, a couple of classes ago, if she had any family members named K., because she looked so much like K. from DU. What a doofus I am: if I hadn't cemented their fairly strong resemblance in my head by asking one of them about it, I probably would have recognized MSCD K. as herself, not mistaking her as DU K.

All I know about MSCD K. is that she is among the brighter of my classmates and capable of appreciating why The Trial is worthy of study in a law class, and that she loves Pride and Prejudice. I suspect that after this incident, however, bosom-buddyism shall probably not develop.

treeCleansing Our Pores for Each Other

This morning I used another Bioré strip. When HAO finally found a box and gave me a strip, I was so excited I didn't apply it carefully and the results weren't jaw-dropping. Today I applied it very carefully, right after my shower, and didn't remove it for 20 minutes--I always hope that even if it's just as dry at 10' as at 20', maybe the extra ten will give it some added sucking power. It was a really good one, very productive. I called CLH, waking her up: "Hello?" she asked groggily. "Hi. I did a really good one this morning and you wouldn't believe what the strip plucked from my nose." She pro'ly recognized my voice by about "really" but it took a bit after my sentence ended for her to register and laugh at my subject. She restrained herself from asking that I send it to her. I told her about Stimpy keeping the spittings from his tooth-brushings in a cabinet full of specimen jars. That's going to be us; I really want to put these suckers in my scrapbook. I told her how I've converted my friends. She is quite amused and happy at my evangelism.

treeAnd that's how you can be walking and falling at the same time

RDC and I walked this afternoon. The leaves are changing and dropping and it's going to drop suddenly to the upper 40s on Sunday. Perhaps HAO and I should go for our long walk tomorrow, since we haven't acclimated to cold yet.

treeMy Little Guy

Blake is on my shoulder, preening his plumage and mine. Cockatiels are so sweet and dusty and snuggable. No, Blake is now on the hanging lamp (turned off) over my head. I believe he needs to have his belly tickled. Now he's on the chair with my feet, preening his breast. So many feathers, so little time.

*No comma is necessary between "dog" and "who": with that comma, the sentence would mean that the dog greeted me happily--which it didn't do. Which is another thing: I barely know the MSCD K. but I know enough about the DU K. to be certain any dog of hers would be extremely philanthropic and enthusiastic.

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Last modified 10 October 1997

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