Turns out that a mouthful of celery leaves will temporarily numb your tongue.
Last night we had a rip-roaring thunderstorm, or so I hear from my mom. I went to bed wishing it would rain, fell asleep, and missed the whole thing. I think some part of my mind could hear it though, because I seem to have slept better last night than any other night for weeks. Despite not getting to sleep until 1 or so and then waking at 7:45 (missed my alarm twice, apparently), I felt more energized this morning than I've felt in ages.
Yesterday I saw a frog jump into a ditch puddle while I was walking Miley. Magical!
Once again I feel like I've forgotten half of what I wanted to say. Suddenly this morning I am SUPER EXCITED to be going to Camp on Friday. Even without Victoria, Ellen, Dan or Jr, I hope it's fabulous. I hope it's warm enough for canoeing and maybe swimming. I need to find my water shoes, towel, flashlight, knee pads, caving pants, and so on. Sean's riding up with me so that might be nice. Should be, yes.
If I ever get my taxes done Kelly and I may go to Belle Isle Wednesday, which would be cool. Today I'm taking Marina to Maymont and maybe going to Chloe's "As You Like It" dress rehearsal. Definitely a recipe for taxes getting done, I know. And Thursday Kelly and Maggie want to go to a movie. Sigh. And then Friday is Camp! And the next weekend is Ian's (and Adrienne's) baptism, omg. How did April get here so fast? I feel like two seconds from now I'll be in Lafayette, and then I'll be 24. And David will still be gone. Will that ever stop rising from the depths of my heart like bile in my throat? I feel like I have chronic heartburn. The water is clear as far down as can be seen, and sparkling in the sun and then Leviathan stirs on the bottom, and sends clouds of dust and a smell of pain welling up to the surface. My arms are still empty, my lips still unkissed.
[end notebook entry]
In case anyone was feeling particularly driven to inform me once again, I would like to make it known that I am in fact aware of the fact that the answer to the question of "will that ever stop rising" is "yes." However, I retain my right to be frustrated at the unexpected intrusion of my heartbreak into a previously happy mental state.
In other news, I did take Marina to Maymont and it was actually pretty great. She really loved the park, especially the waterfall, and seemed to really appreciate being willingly taken out to do something fun on a nice day by an adult. I thought that might be the case, which was of course the whole point. I ended up talking about literature and the dangers of thoughtlessness in society with her mom at the end of the day, and we're all hoping to get together again sometime in the next few months for an educational type outing, possibly to the Poe museum. Not that any of us seem to be huge fans of Poe (I mean, I'll concede that he was talented, but his talent doesn't make me enjoy reading about insanity and death), but it seems like it might be interesting. I haven't been since grade school, and even then I think I was only in the garden, helping my aunt set up for a party.
I still haven't done my taxes. Ugh.
After I wrote in the notebook I read over what I had written before, and here's what I wrote February 27, at 1 am.
About the "so many different kinds of love" poem*--I guess it's about change, too. Each act of love changes both the lover and the loved. It's the way of the universe--change. Everything changes everything, irrevocably, every moment.
And here is the best thing that has happened all day. Chloe quotes are pretty high up on my list of awesomest most favoritest things.
(ok actually here's one from yesterday first)
me: Yeah I'm not a mango lover.
Chloe: Yeah you think they taste like Christmas trees. And they do.
m: Oh yeah, I had forgotten about that. But they do.
(sometimes we say "yeah" a lot.)
C: Hey Marie, what's your present tolerance for grossness?
M: What kind?
C: Um, snot.
M: Oh. High.
C: Okay, well the other day...[tells story about snot being accidentally reconstituted in the washing machine. Then,] ...so if snot is ever dried in your nose, and you want to, you know, make it usable again, you can just wash it, or like, infuse it with water...
M: [typing] ...wash it in the sink...
C: [annoyed] I did not say 'wash it in the sink.' Why would you wash it in the sink? It's in your nose. That's stupid. You make me sound stupid.
At this point I started to giggle, and then we both cracked up for several minutes. She said the worst part was that she had been serious. Clearly that was actually the best, and not the worst part.
*which can be read here, if anyone is interested.