Not much to report from the Great White North. Tonight Richard made a dinner of rice, bok choy, and strange Peking-duck-flavored wheat gluten from a can. I applaud him for trying, but it was truly awful stuff.
I'm in sinus hell right now, and still reluctant to try a Neti pot. Too gross.
I'm nearly finished with And the Band Played On. It's very sad and unsettling, but inspiring, too; some extraordinarily brave and far-sighted people risked their careers to fight AIDS in the days when it didn't even have a name. The author himself, Randy Shilts, was so determined to protect his journalistic integrity while writing the book that he didn't get tested for HIV until he was finished. He died of AIDS in 1994.
I'll probably keep on reading, 'cause the TV pickin's are slim. Example: The Saltmen of Tibet, described thusly: "Tibetans gather lake salt and transport it by yak." Wheeee!
Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if it wasn't two hours long.
The Paper Chase: From the moment she first saw them, Sophie was bound and determined to devour the wrapping from the Christmas presents. Rather than give in to her paper addiction by hiding them, I just shooed her away every time she made a run for them. She seems to have given up in defeat...for now.
Creepy Clown Sightings
11 months ago