A Girl...

Miles and Miles and Miles and Miles and Piles*

Yesterday my father sent me a fatherly email full of practical information, like: shortly after 1 a.m. today it was 01:02:03 04/05/06, and I'd better take note because it won't happen again FOREVER. Well, for another thousand years, but what with the nuclear winter we're having in the Bay Area,** we'll probably all be wearing special suits whose facemasks will fog up as they collect live-saving moisture*** and we won't be able to see a clock or a calendar or our loved ones ever again, BOO HOO. Either that or we'll be dead; a thousand years is a long time.

Here is the city today.

Here is me in a piece titled Overworked but Happy in a Tired and Restrained Sort of Way.

God, I love that sweater. But look! Look at those piles of paper! And those drinks in the foreground? About three months old because in my world typos trump sanitation and I Can't Be Bothered to affect a fine veneer of civilization. Also, when we were in Italy, this waiter in Vernazza(?) kept calling me "Heidi" because of my braids, and for the rest of the trip my dad kept saying "Ja, ja," in a voice not unlike the Swedish Chef and it cracked me up because that word accounted for about 50 percent of the foreign language he spoke during the whole two weeks, the other parts being 30 percent "una birra" (a beer) and 20 percent "uno gato felice" (the happy cat). Old dog, new tricks.

*Look, honey! I'm The Who! *high five*
**Okay, so maybe not nuclear winter, but at least nuclear cold snap with lots and lots of rain. Note to the weather: I'm so over you!
***The boy is reading Dune (again!) and I can only listen to half of what he says before my brain goes into standby mode.