enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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update on my thrilling existence

Hurricane Cynthia has come and gone! We had a lovely time, although I confess that I likely say this as a result of the kindness of her visit having been restricted to a mere 26 hours!

I'm such a charmer, am I not?

I do love my friends. I really do. :)

The very best thing about Cynthia is her joie de vivre. This morning's excursion-- ostensibly for a hike up to the town's lookout and for a walk around the lake--(although it did, indeed, include these particular activities) ultimately became a bakery comparison shop for the town's best buttertart. I mean, I'm a sucker for a good buttertart as much as the next person; I could, however, have done without the consumption of three of them plus a Nanaimo bar before noon.

The thing with Cynthia, you see, is that her enthusiasm bowls one over. I only ever realize after my fits of gourmandaise in her presence that I am highly suggestible in her company.
It will not surprise you to discover that she and the friend who frequently sends me top-drawer chocolates from Toronto are the very same person.

Hmmm...

Other than that, C. called from Germany this afternoon. As I've mentioned in previous posts, C. is the master of enthusiastic displays (not). The conversation went a little bit like this:

S(me): So, C., how was your dad's 70th birthday party? (The party took place in Bremen, yesterday.)

C: Not bad.

S: When you say "not bad," do you in fact mean 'good', 'fine', or 'close to bad, but decent enough to have made a narrow escape from this description'?

C.: It was not bad.

S.: OK. Well, how did the speech that you were nervous about turn out?

C.: Um...OK. My mom was pleased.

S.: And how about your dad?

C.: I don't know.

S.: (Pause...waiting for *something* more)

C.: Well, it was a little bit depressing.

S.: (still waiting)

C.: My brother and I both said in our speeches that he had been a great dad and that he should no longer worry about us. The thing is that this seemed to *increase* his worry. He got up and proceeded to itemize all of the things that still worry him.

S: OH NO! In his birthday speech????

C: Yes. For example, he started speaking at length about his will.

S: OH GOD!?!?!?! At least we know that you come by your Gloomy Gus personality very honestly.

C: Um, yeah. There was also an argument between a couple of my dad's old cronies at one point.

Can you imagine???? His dad is a lovely guy, too. How sad that he is ever-focused on the worries over the delights.

Anyhow. That was my little tidbit for the day. Poor, poor C. Often when I think of C. I think of Charlotte Bartlett in EM Forst3r's A R00m with a Vi3w. As in "Poor Charlotte. Poor, poor Charlotte."

OK. I will go. Undoubtedly, I will bore you once or twice more in advance of my Friday departure for the big 'O'. :)

The teeth (gums!) appear to be healing beautifully, by the way. The right-hand side feels quite nice; there are four sutures on the bottom left, on the other hand, so that side is still somewhat tender.

6:48 p.m. - 2006-08-27

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