My Night from 12:35am to 10:00am

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ZZZZZZZZzzz z z z *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK**HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* (cough syrup, throat spray) *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* zz *HACK* zzzzzzz *HACK* *HACK* zzzzzzzz *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* zzzzzzzzzzzzzz *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* *HACK* zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
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I. Fucking. Hate. This.

The Frenchman’s sister says that her youngest son gets this cough from the dryness of the heaters in the house, that she has to do something equivalent to humidifying the place to get it to stop. It makes sense because we’ve only started using the wall heaters in the last couple of weeks. I’m dramatically increasing my water intake to see if that helps.

Yesterday, I was feeling pretty well, so we went into town late in the afternoon. We bought crepe batter from Crepes-a-Go-Go, then went to the movies to see The Queen. It’s a fairly solid film with some wonderful acting, but there were a couple of miscasts in my opinion, particularly of Prince Charles. I loved recalling Tony Blair in the days when I wanted to have his babies. It also brought back all that emotion when Diana died. The Frenchman was incredibly puzzled as to why I and my friends would have grieved so much at her death. I thought the film had explained the whole fairytale thing, but I re-explained how I and my friends were not that far in age from Diana and how her whole wedding captured our romantic imaginations in high school. Then, to see the whole dream peeled away in what looked like a series of frightful betrayals just made us far more sympathetic to her. She was truly a Princess of the People and she stirred us deeply with her compassion, strength and courage. One of the missteps of the film was that they allude to another side of her — a private Mr. Hyde to her demure, public Jekyll — but they never gave any good examples of it except to imply that she wasn’t as affectionate with her sons in private as she was around the cameras.

Anyway, I made my first crepes last night. Check out my Flickr photos of the yum!

I’m going to try to make my day better than my night, dammit.

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