Like the song says...
Feb. 2nd, 2005 06:57 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mallorys_cameraJanuary's over. Thank God.
Max back from a weekend at Deep Springs talking as though he's already one of the L.L. Nunn Borg. He gave us an hour and a half recital in chronological order of everything that happened to him there, and all the people he met. I'm afraid I started nodding off halfway through – nothing to do with the story, everything to do with overwork & exhaustion. Suffice it to say, he loved the place but is adopting the rational "Que sera, sera" approach to admission. I must say if they pass on him, they will be missing out on a really enthusiastic ranch hand.
Am pals again with Bill & Heidi who I ran into at the Farmers Market. I'd dropped by Bill's spa store several days before to hit him up for a donation. (As though my life is not crazy enough, I volunteered to do fund-raising for Robin's school.) We ended up having coffee and chatting for over an hour. I watched the shadows come and go across Bill's blue eyes, tuned out on content and wondered whether if Heidi dropped dead tomorrow I could maneuver him into marrying me. This is some kind of rescue fantasy. Bill and Heidi see me as the doughty widder woman, fighting hard to rescue the ranch. This is in direct contrast to Marybeth who sounded appalled that I had snagged a day job when she called to tell me Susan's mother had died. "Well, that's just awful," she cooed. "You poor dear. Call me tonight and we'll catch up."
I wasn't about to call her that night. I could see her judgment in a big thought balloon gathering over my cell phone. Of course, it's relatively easy to be an ant as opposed to a grasshopper when you've inherited a million bucks from the largest plumbing business in the East Bay. Money changes everything.
Max back from a weekend at Deep Springs talking as though he's already one of the L.L. Nunn Borg. He gave us an hour and a half recital in chronological order of everything that happened to him there, and all the people he met. I'm afraid I started nodding off halfway through – nothing to do with the story, everything to do with overwork & exhaustion. Suffice it to say, he loved the place but is adopting the rational "Que sera, sera" approach to admission. I must say if they pass on him, they will be missing out on a really enthusiastic ranch hand.
Am pals again with Bill & Heidi who I ran into at the Farmers Market. I'd dropped by Bill's spa store several days before to hit him up for a donation. (As though my life is not crazy enough, I volunteered to do fund-raising for Robin's school.) We ended up having coffee and chatting for over an hour. I watched the shadows come and go across Bill's blue eyes, tuned out on content and wondered whether if Heidi dropped dead tomorrow I could maneuver him into marrying me. This is some kind of rescue fantasy. Bill and Heidi see me as the doughty widder woman, fighting hard to rescue the ranch. This is in direct contrast to Marybeth who sounded appalled that I had snagged a day job when she called to tell me Susan's mother had died. "Well, that's just awful," she cooed. "You poor dear. Call me tonight and we'll catch up."
I wasn't about to call her that night. I could see her judgment in a big thought balloon gathering over my cell phone. Of course, it's relatively easy to be an ant as opposed to a grasshopper when you've inherited a million bucks from the largest plumbing business in the East Bay. Money changes everything.
