I want to tell everyone everything about every day, I do, really. I would love nothing more than to keep every one of you in a loop of running texts about all the things I am experiencing in every day (Twitter-y!) & bond our hearts together with the glue of quotidian confessions, yes.
And that kind of reporting used to happen here, although it was more weekly than daily, but I am tired. And writing about a lot of the things that are happening here is just ... more tiring. I don't need to process what is happening around here & intellectualize it, but it is all that is on my mind, morning, noon, and night.
This is how people wind up in the ER with panic masquerading as a cardiac event. Seriously.
I had a truly lovely weekend away. Sal & I ate a lot of takeaway & slept until 11 every single day & took a nap every afternoon, I am not even kidding. We discovered The Good Wife, which is so fun! Like, LA Law + Spenser, for Hire + Sisters, all at once. I know, & you're like, Have you not watched television since 1991? Yeah, not really.
The weekend was also unexpectedly & pleasingly domestic, in that I had a chance to go to Nordstrom Rack Friday evening (so crowded & I was like, "Are they having drink specials in there, Washington?") and buy Mari 7 pairs of socks & five bars of soap.
You know, soap is a funny thing and if you ask Lillo, Mari can't figure out where soap comes from. So remember when we had so much soap because I had all this anxiety at the turn of the century because I had a brand new baby & a brand-new house & then I was pregnant anyhow & I was buying soap faster & faster & faster than we could ever use it up & Mari said one day, in 2002, maybe, "Please stop buying soap & also: candles."
Then I swear to you it was 2006 or 2007 before the four of us had worked through my store of special, precious, hand-dipped, milky, whatever bars of soap. So, I bought soap. Some old handful of Kiss My Face bar of whatever. Mari came & said, "I don't like this soap. This will not do."
Omigosh, what? That will never do! But where did our soap come from? & I could not remember, and I was telling this to Lillo & he famously scoffed, like, he could not believe that Mari could not walk to the store & get the soap he wanted to use for himself.
But it's just like Love in the Time of Cholera, this soap as a character, & it makes me laugh. Thursday, Mari said, before I left, "I used up the last of the soap yesterday."
I laughed & laughed & then said, "This will be the end. Expect a call from Lillo." Because I don't even live in DC. How does Mari run out of soap in our DC house? Lord. I mean, because do you know how he gets the DC soap? He takes it from the cupboard here! My god!
I use a bodywash in that bathroom, a kind of an alarmingly viscous one which has seedy grit in it & I know those guys will never touch it, so it will always be mine. Anyhow, my man needed new work socks & also, soap, so that is all put away down there now.
You know, love to dish, but I do not have all night.
Marsha asked about buns, so for her I say that I use Elise's recipe, followed it to the letter when I have used cheese in the past, but lately I do not use the cheese & just add about 1 half-cup of black sesame seeds to her recipe, until it seems like the tapioca bread at H-Mart's bakery. It comes out fine every time, today included, but I have other friends who say they can't make pão de queijo work. Idk.
In other follow-up news: Housecall massage sounds good & then you realize that large-animal vets also make housecalls and no offense meant to James Herriot, but it is more of a traveling massage outfit, which is how Sal wound up with linens on his massage table which smelled of car exhaust and also how we wound up with a strange pair of worn panties -- not mine, not Fifille's -- mysteriously appearing under the coffee table when it was all over.
My massage was fine. I mean, it wasn't the best ever, but I dozed off in the middle of it for a bit & went to sleep within the hour after they departed.
Panties, hahaha. I mean but seriously. These therapists have been in someone's house before yours, lugging their tack around all night. That is kind of nauseating & I am surprised to have not had thought of it before. I mean, I saw Contagion!
Kowalski had a birthday. That guy. I did recall that he only kills people off in alternate years, so that is good for me now. He had a request, just like Marsha, and I am going to get to that, but not tonight. xoxoxox