tiny kid hands
Last week when I heard about Arafat's mystery illness, I said to myself, "Someone's been feeding the man arsenic or something", and then a day or so ago when the news was saying Arafat's test for leukemia was negative, I said out loud to Francisco, "I think he's being poisoned". And because I was talking (and in the kitchen) I didn't hear what the news said, but Francisco told me that at the same time I said "poisoned" the news said, "poisoned", as in "his aides think he's been poisoned". The point of me telling you this is to say, am I good or what? I can sense a poisoning from thousands of miles away. Does anyone want to hire The Amazing Psychic Eva? I am available for birthday parties and bar mitzvahs.
What a busy weekend. I did not finish everything on my list, but I got damn close, and I can finish the last three things this week, no problem--2 of them were really easy anyway. We got the futon cover, fabric for curtains (which I "made"--hemmed on all sides--yesterday and Francisco hung), and the box for hiding stuff in. The living room? Is done.
Halloween was a bust, basically. We need to learn we'll only get a dozen or so trick or treaters and consequently stop buying 4 bags of candy per year, because then it all just hangs around in the house, talking to me in alluring squeaky voices, and that is not good. Boy did well in his trick or treating--he and his friend got a good bit of candy--but nobody knew he was Lynndie England. They just assumed he was an anonymous soldier, though he had his candy cigarettes and was pointing like nobody's business. And get this: the Halloween party he went to on Saturday was Not a costume party! Junior high kids are apparently too cool for costume parties; how disappointing. I got a good photo of Boy's Lynndie England pointing and I'll send it to Bad Gas and see if they'll post it. If not, okay, but it's some pretty good pointing.
This morning I was sleeping so heavily I didn't hear the alarm go off. I was dreaming about Johnny Depp (of all people--weird because I don't have a fixation on him or anything) and I dreamt we'd had sex. The maddening thing was, I had apparently blacked out just before the sex proper, and I was trying to remember it, but to no avail. What a rip-off. In my dream Johnny Depp had very small hands. Like, tiny kid hands, which sounds freaky, but in the dream it seemed okay. I am still groggy.
Today has been more of the same nonsense from last week, and I hope it's going to end soon. At least the boss isn't here today; that's definitely a blessing.
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