2000-10-09 - 10:01 p.m.
There are things that are hopeless, such as my fondness for the perenially hapless Chicago White Sox. There are things that sting - literally, such as the wasps in my house, and figuratively, such as the rejection slip I opened when I got home. There are people I'd like to clout on the noggin and articles I resent for wasting my time, and don't even get me started on "managed" care. My sinuses and joints are both giving me trouble and I need far more sleep than I've gotten over the past week.
But dwelling on any of these things is a bore. Better to return to the memory of my friends Chris and Leah dancing to Louis Armstrong's "What a Wonderful World" at their wedding last night. Better to linger over other highlights of the weekend:
- pumpkin ale, garlic-and-mushroom soup, and sumo wrestlers on the telly at Woodward Avenue Brewers
- dancing for hours at City Club (while discreetly admiring the Loreena McKennitt lookalike swishing around in corset, bustle and boots)
- dancing for hours at the wedding with my husband
- decaf almond-flavored latte at Sweetwater's
- finding C.H.Sisson's _Selected Poems_ at a remainders store for $3.
- spicy tenderloins and even spicier gossip in a former neighbor's dining room, and being warmed by both good red wine and big bear hugs
- snuggling under a pile of quilts at the b-and-b as a few snow flakes shivered down outside (just a few, but still!)
...and the prospect of heading upstairs in a few moments to my own warm sheets.
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