By Rafael Campo
A golden age of love songs and we still
can't get it right. Does your kiss really taste
like butter cream? To me, the moon's bright face
was neither like a pizza pie nor full;
the Beguine began, but my eyelid twitched.
"No more I love you's," someone else assured
us, pouring out her heart, in love (of course)—
what bothers me the most is that high-pitched,
undone whine of "Why am I so alone?"
Such rueful misery is closer to
the truth, but once you turn the lamp down low,
you must admit that he is still the one,
and baby, baby he makes you so dumb
you sing in the shower at the top of your lungs.
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Thursday mostly involved laundry and chores when I wasn't trying to get writing work done. Adam is going to an invitational cross country meet in North Carolina over the weekend, so I realized that I had to get his school logo gear clean, plus towels and the twelve million pairs of socks he wears every week. I was hindered by the massive basement cave cricket invasion -- the temperature drops a few degrees and suddenly they all move in, probably encouraged by all the trees that have been felled since the July storms and the brand new play equipment put up today in the common area behind our house. I am midway through 2009 uploading my life to Flickr, so I should hopefully be done by the end of the year.
Adam was busy packing and talking all night to his girlfriend, so after he disappeared upstairs, we put on the Ravens game with actual NFL officials (yay!), then we half-watched Glee which started during the long injury delay, then we watched Elementary which I enjoyed on pretty much every level except the fact that I wish more mysteries had less to do with dead bodies. I thought the casting was great, liked the pacing of the episode, hope they'll make more of the setting in the future and wouldn't mind some more creative visuals, but was really happy not to have women constantly insulted and Holmes not believe he's God's gift to everything. (If you are one of the Sherlock fans who feels it necessary to run down Elementary just for existing, please take it somewhere else.)
When we saw the beavers at the National Zoo...
...they were so ready to be fed that one was trying to gnaw through a metal door to the keeper's area.
In this regard, they remind me very much of my cats.
They also spent time swimming around with the ducks...
...who seemed miffed at having to get out of the beavers' way, as if the exhibit belonged primarily to them.
Until I saw the beaver IMAX movie I did not realize that beavers vocalized so much.
These two, however, were more interested in swimming up to each other and nudging each other.
And, eventually, they did get fed.
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