We've been watching The Big Bang Theory these past few weeks and I'm a little bit embarrassed to admit how much I'm enjoying it. Laughing out loud enjoying it. Gales of uncontrollable laughter enjoying it. And then a self-conscious glance sideways at my boy to gauge his response. I've generally been relieved to find him smiling too, though it's entirely possible he's merely suppressing laughter at me, his girl. Have I mentioned what a great boyfriend he is?
I've also finally been watching the rest of the West Wing DVDs friend Marti was kind enough to loan me last January. The other morning, as I was finishing the last few rows of this shawl, I watched the episode where Leo McGarry, whom I adore, has a heart attack in the woods of Camp David. I sat there on the couch in the just barely dawn light (I was trying to finish the shawl as early as possible so I could wash it and block it and leave for the UN before noon), tears streaming down my face. The thought of him being so alone, and in such pain, was too much to bear. My father, in the same pain, at least was surrounded by people. Of course, I was the only one there who loved him, and I couldn't bring myself to go to him. Or maybe they wouldn't let me, it's hard to remember now. This was all the more heartbreaking because the actor who played Leo McGarry died of a heart attack not long after that episode.
This morning is weather like I haven't seen in a long, long time. It's raining, or mostly raining, with some slushing sleeting icy stuff mixed in. The intersections are flooded, the drains are clogged, and there's a thin hard layer of ice covering almost everything. The corner outside my building where I wait for the M4 and the little kids wait for the school bus was a veritable skating rink. They slid, I slid, their parents slid almost off the sidewalk and into oncoming traffic. I finally waded across Broadway at 116th Street, skidded across College Walk and down the stairs to Hamilton Deli, where I stood dripping slush and ice and rain onto their cardboard-covered floor. I looked up to find my coffee men (and woman) staring at me, and we all burst out laughing and smiled sympathetically and wished each other a safe morning. Then I made my way to work, coffee clutched in hand, and found a Ghirardelli Square (dark chocolate with raspberry filling) on my desk. I am eating it now and thinking this is not the worst day.
Yesterday I emailed friend Erik this link, showing off of course, and was so tickled by his one-line response that I smiled for much of the rest of the afternoon: "You have a red dress?"