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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I think I look a bit more like Virginia Woolf or George Eliot, or some other plain, long-nosed English lady novelist...

Good grief I woke up this morning with my face extraordinarily puffy and my eyes nearly puffed shut. What could do this? An allergy?

I'm slowly deflating.

I slept long last night, and my face has puffed up in the past when I have slept long. Not sure of the direction of causation.

So I'm feeling weary and a bit sad. The long and the short of it is that I realize that the balance has tilted and that I need to stop thinking of the scientist as a potential boyfriend. He's not my match. I was, however, starting to like the idea of having a boyfriend again.

So he sent me this poem that he wrote about me, last night:

In imitation of Pound

BYTOWNE, NOVEMBER 23

Suddenly discovering in the profile of the very sensible
Canadian economist
The profile of the very romantic Russian poetess.

And I wrote back that "good grief the bump on my nose is not THAT big."

I was only joking, for I'd noticed the slight resemblance upon buying the same book of poetry, myself (though my nose really does not have such an extreme bump on it).

I feel badly because I was trying to provoke. I was doing what I do--not writing exactly what I mean.

Anyhow. I am certain by now that you are tremendously bored by tales of the scientist. They will cease. I will move on.

I'm going to go off to buy the paper and inform my brain as soon as the swelling in my face subsides. Weird, that.

11:58 a.m. - 2006-11-25

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