Upcoming

On February 19, I will be telling a story at Previously Secret Information. If you are a real devotee of this blog, you will have already seen me tell this story though the magic of video, but you should probably come anyway. I'll wear something different to make it worth your while.

Interestingly, I had an anxiety dream about it last night. I showed up at the theatre all ready to recount my tale and it turned out that they had cast actors to perform it instead. So I had to stand in the wings--all dressed up--while two actors interpreted my personal mishaps. I was approximately 2% flattered and 98% really annoyed.

La lista

Buongiorno amici,
Aside from being briefly confused about celebrities, I have been pretty quiet. I realize this. The dreaded illness that required tea for days on end proved more miserable and tenacious than the average cold. I watched an absolutely incredulous amount of British period drama, coughed like a consumptive, and was reduced to tears on several occasions. Blech. Then I got well and was suddenly all fired up about my summer plans. I like to have a plan. I like it so much that I will often do things like make plans for July in January.

Indeed. Vado in Italia in luglio. Vero! Not just "gee, I'd like to go to Italy this summer" but, as of yesterday: tickets bought, apartments reserved, excitement afoot. I'll go to Switzerland to see my dear distant friend and then to Rome for four days and Florence for a week. That means that #8 on the list shall be accomplished at long last. I even sent an inquiry about payment in Italian so maybe that counts as #9. It's a start anyway. Maybe I'll learn to say enough things that I can charm someone into drinking with me and thus accomplish #38. What's more, I may be able to see my cousin while I'm in Switzerland (#50). It's shaping up to be quite the life list extravaganza. Since I moved two years ago and gave up my cheap rent, I've not been able to afford to leave the state, so you'll excuse me if my sundresses and I do a little jig around the living room with my new Christmas suitcase.

I'll tell you a secret, shall I? While researching Rome apartments, I stumbled upon this one that is so lovely it is even called lovely and it pleases me to the point of sleeplessness. It is also really too expensive for me. Having extended experience being smitten with those who are out of reach, I was familiar with the sensation. I thought I'd get over it. Why I thought this, I cannot tell you. The aforementioned experience certainly offers no "getting over it" precedent. In any case, I didn't. Instead, I thought about it every day. Frankly, I blame the bathtub. Ultimately, as the adage says, "when in Rome, be in love with your apartment." I think that's the expression, anyway. Yesterday, I confirmed my reservation. Vero! I am giddy with delight. As a result, it's possible that I will forget to go out and see the Colosseum, but that's okay. I'm pretty sure there are photos of it available online, right?

Oh! And I almost forgot! I am also going to NY for a long weekend in April. Algonquin cocktails (#12), here I come.

I predict that in 2013 I will be clad in a barrel and eating instant ramen every day to make up for all this reckless extravagance, but for now sono molto felice.
Ciao.

Wrong again

The frequency with which I confuse famous people's names makes my life more confusing, albeit more amusing, than yours. Notable misunderstandings of the past: Gary Cooper for Gary Coleman; Bill Cosby for Bill Clinton (I know. That was a bad one.)

Today, I am reading a list of books that will be made into movies in the coming year. Among them is The Hobbit. In a small blurb it is noted that Martin Freeman is playing Bilbo. I think you know what I thought.

Morgan Freeman? Isn't he kind of old to play Bilbo Baggins? And too tall?

Ladies and gentlemen, I give you Morgan Freeman:

Aaaannnddd....Martin Freeman.

Oh.

Sick

On the first day home with my seemingly entirely throat-centered illness, I discovered that I don't have a spoon that will fit into the mouth of my honey jar. If jar is the word. It is a plastic container that was designed as a squeeze bottle, but, of course, this presupposes that the honey remains in a liquid state. No one's honey remains in a liquid state.

I subsequently discovered that putting honey on the end of a knife, holding it over the tea cup, and pouring the tea directly over it, it is possible to melt the honey in an efficient manner while being simultaneously evocative of pouring absinthe over a sugar-filled spoon.

True, it does require significant effort of imagination to recast myself as a wanton flapper in a silken dress, rather than the hacking creature in sweatpants that I actually am at present, but it is day four of tea and Kleenex, and I'm doing my best.

Strategy

Hallway. Lunchtime. Group of girls.

Girl 1: Wait. What's happening right now?
Girl 2: What's happening right now is that I really have to pee. But I'm holding it 'til Spanish class.