Andare, Partire, Tornare
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
No, really. stop looking at me like that. It's all good.
I'm metaphorically dusting off my hands and moving on from the pity party of yesterday. It was indulgent, true - but when something comes tumbling out of you like that, I suppose the least you can do is get out of its way and let it do what it wants.
Thanks to the extra work on Saturday, I get to take some time off this week. I celebrated by leaving an hour early yesterday, and I'll be taking off three hours early today. I think I'll walk up to the National Gallery and then down to American History before I head home. I want to walk around and soak in some art, and say hello to Lorenzo D'Medici's terra cotta bust which shows his slightly flattened nose and wry smile. Maybe swing past and look back at Ginevra De Benci's solemn, regarding gaze. Or go to the East Wing and lose myself in a Rotheko. I need it badly, a balm to my frustrations.
Bemo and I have set a weekend to go up to Penn State. Wooba.
I feel like I need to protest that no, really, I'm in a much better mood now. Here. I'll repost Boromir and the clothespin doll. It makes me happy.
I know that the joke is getting old, but I still giggle.
On another note, American Idol is starting to bore me a little bit. Only TWoP makes it worthwhile. It didn't help that last night's theme was the ouvre of a cheezy ballad-writer who has managed to perfect the bland yet catchy song formula. (Note - I do like some of her songs, but I do see that they're pap! Pap for the masses! Ahem. Not that there's anything wrong with that.)
After I watched AI I went and listened to some more Poe and it made it all better.
9:36 a.m. - 2003-04-23
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------