Vocabulary

Jerry is good at making up words. I never know whether it is intentional or not. His latest word is "exubulated." I took the liberty of defining this as exhausted from having sex.

Sometimes, he is at a loss for words. I was rubbing his broken shoulder the other day when he made a noise. "Did that hurt?" I asked, and quickly let go. "No," he said. "It was the opposite of hurt." I said I thought that sounded like the latest book by Dr. Phil. He said, no, Dr. Keith.

List

Things I am more fascinated with than I should be:
Wedding dresses
Fancy picture frames at Marshalls
My horoscope
Where my husband leaves his dirty clothes
So You Think You Can Dance
Making dessert
Avoiding work
Various nude shades of nail polish
Wondering what my mother is doing in heaven at any given moment
My own wedding photos
AP Style

Things I am less fascinated with than I should be:
Making web pages
Blogs of people I don't know
Local politics
The interest rates on my credit cards
Gardening
Making dinner
How to get places efficiently
Novels
Making new friends
Vehicle Maintenance
Sunscreen

Journal entry

Today I had my driver's license renewed and I passed the eye test without my glasses. My new official portrait is more shiny and plump than I would like to be. We'll see how it looks when it's laminated. Then I wrote about Catholics' reaction to the Pope's gesture of allowing revival of the Latin Mass. Some Catholics I spoke to didn't seem to know what to think given a choice about something they were normally told to accept or not accept in the past and I didn't really dawn on them to have a preference. Others though, had very personal opinions. When I got home, the little globe lights that illuminate the tent over our backyard picnic table were glowing and gypsy jazz guitar was playing. Jerry had prepared the rarest of filets, grilled corn and new potatoes w oregano from his garden and invented an exlir of butter, olive oil and blue cheese which seemed to be really good even on grilled corn where it doesn't' really belong. We marveled at this new creation, blue cheese butter. "What else would this be good on?" Jerry asked. Then, he answered himself. "My old shoes from sixth grade." It's true.

In Paris, early Spring, 2005, I sat on a stone bench in the courtyard of the Louve on a sunny windy day. I enjoyed the unpretentious yet powerful presence of this woman standing behind me in her cubby on the wall of the courtyard. We watched everyone strolling about their business, glad that no one noticed us. I took out my journal for a few minutes, and it seemed like just the right thing to do at that moment unlike it feels when I would take out my journal in the Someday Cafe (RIP) and you feel like your being pretentious. I closed the journal and made an effort not to get blown inside on the only sunny day of the week we visited Paris, and decided for a moment to just be there. "I am in the courtyard of the Louve," I said. Contentedly, she replied, "So am I."

Old news

Have I ever told you why I love the pyramids at the Louvre? In pictures it seemed nonsensical and distracting, a very forced statement of modernity against antiquity. But seeing them in person offered a completely different perspective. Because the regimented mathmatical symmetrical spacing of the intricate elements in each building, the three pyramids are in perfect harmony with the Louvre exterior. It instantly made sense. Voila.