Saturday, September 22, 2007


So Stephanie and I went to play tennis again this morning, something we've done maybe 5 times, once a week since I saw that movie "Wimbledon." We hit the ball back, and then forth, for about an hour without keeping score. That's lucky, because I can't imagine there'd be a winner. We'd just be loser and losest.

But today something hit us as we got to the neighborhood courts. Uh-oh. People.

I think one of them was a local TV personality. We were nervous. I didn't want any tips from anybody and Stephanie didn't want to hit the ball into their court. So we relegated ourselves to the far court, leaving one court as a buffer. It turns out that they shot a ball into our court first! I stopped being nervous after about 15 minutes, and went about my pattern: Hit the ball, wait for it to come back, miss it, then run toward the ball swinging the swing I'd have swung if I had it all to do over again. It works for me.

Tuesday, September 04, 2007

Flighty randomness

My attention span seems to have grown infinitesimal lately. I can't put enough brainpower together to figure out why. But here are some randoms:

1. The invitations are out. Finally. We were this close (this close!) to evites. For real.

2. One thing that I've noticed about shopping is that I seem to lose about 10 pounds just by walking into a higher-end shop. I may fit a 10 at The Gap, but suddenly I'm swimming in 6s at Ann Taylor. But drop on in to Ann Taylor LOFT, its spunky little sister, and it's 8 for me. Do I pay for a false sense of body security? Gladly.

3. The only case in which this does not work is wedding gowns. While they are quite expensive, I find I am a Size HUGEPetite in them. I was going to do a Google search for "wedding gowns large chest" but decided against it. I just have to accept that dresses, as they are sold, are not made for my body type, which is essentially a jumbling of leftover laboratory sale parts. Some are tiny (I haven't bought shoes in a normal store since I decided I wasn't going to put up with skating around inside them anymore) and some are oddly big. I've fantasized about opening up a store for mis-shapes like me (Paul's name: "Have a Fit!"). So far nothing.

4. You know what 2 words I always think are the same but are really the opposite of each other? Panacea and curare. It's f'd up. It's because curare doesn't sound like what it is at all. And I think curare in Latin is to cure. You know, cure, curare, curati, curactis? Something like that? Anyway, I looked it up again on Saturday. I wonder if it will stick this time.

5. The French-learning continues slowly. Right now I'm up to asking a conversation partner whether they'd like to eat something. And answering, yes, I would like to eat something, or, no, but I would like to drink something. Just a couple more lessons before I can be a spy in Paris! Or a waiter!