Dear friends,
Greetings once again from Sydney, where the cool, rainy weather has kept us indoors all week. On the bright side, all of this rain allows me to indulge in my other favorite activities--namely: eating cookies, playing rummy, and reading on the couch. I'm going to be a fabulous geriatric someday.
Today was also another day of French class, and sadly, it was David's last day. He decided that one good way of spending his retirement would be to book a three-month vacation to France (again: old people have the most amazing lives ever), which was the raison d'être for his classes in the first place. David still can't conjugate the verb "to be" to save his life, but I trust he'll make it alright. We bid him a fond farewell by putting together a little afternoon tea at a local cafe called "Le Petite Paris," where we all ate little cakes and nodded obediently as our teacher waxed poetic about the beauty of reflexive verbs. David's fondness for slapping his forehead cartoon-style whenever he forgets a word will certainly be missed. Marilou, with her indomitable dedication to the perfection of French grammar, will soldier on with me as her unwitting comrade-at-arms for another six weeks. "I think I give the teacher diarrhea," Marilou confided wistfully in a rare moment of self-reflection. Marilou's exact impact on the teacher's digestive tract not withstanding, I get the feeling that she's determined to get me proficient in this language whether I like it or not, and that's not such a bad language partner to have.
But all of this is mere prelude to the real story of today, which all began with a dream I had last night.
Last night, I dreamt that I won the gold medal in the women's 100 meter dash. I didn't even train--just sauntered up to the track and discovered, almost by chance, that I was the world's fastest runner. No big deal. I seem to recall that I beat out U.S. gymast Gabby Douglas in the race, so clearly this was no small feat.
THEN, dream-Alissa went straight from the medal ceremony at the Olympics over to Georgetown where I graduated with my Ph.D. on the very same day. No one there had heard the news about the Olympics yet, so I played it cool. Ph.D., gold medal--all in a day's work.
Greetings once again from Sydney, where the cool, rainy weather has kept us indoors all week. On the bright side, all of this rain allows me to indulge in my other favorite activities--namely: eating cookies, playing rummy, and reading on the couch. I'm going to be a fabulous geriatric someday.
Today was also another day of French class, and sadly, it was David's last day. He decided that one good way of spending his retirement would be to book a three-month vacation to France (again: old people have the most amazing lives ever), which was the raison d'être for his classes in the first place. David still can't conjugate the verb "to be" to save his life, but I trust he'll make it alright. We bid him a fond farewell by putting together a little afternoon tea at a local cafe called "Le Petite Paris," where we all ate little cakes and nodded obediently as our teacher waxed poetic about the beauty of reflexive verbs. David's fondness for slapping his forehead cartoon-style whenever he forgets a word will certainly be missed. Marilou, with her indomitable dedication to the perfection of French grammar, will soldier on with me as her unwitting comrade-at-arms for another six weeks. "I think I give the teacher diarrhea," Marilou confided wistfully in a rare moment of self-reflection. Marilou's exact impact on the teacher's digestive tract not withstanding, I get the feeling that she's determined to get me proficient in this language whether I like it or not, and that's not such a bad language partner to have.
But all of this is mere prelude to the real story of today, which all began with a dream I had last night.
Last night, I dreamt that I won the gold medal in the women's 100 meter dash. I didn't even train--just sauntered up to the track and discovered, almost by chance, that I was the world's fastest runner. No big deal. I seem to recall that I beat out U.S. gymast Gabby Douglas in the race, so clearly this was no small feat.
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| Gabby Douglas: Gold Medal Gymast, but a Silver Medal Sprinter. In my dreams, at least. |
This was when I realized that today was going to be my luckiest day ever. And so it was. By breakfast, the rain stopped for the first time all week. Before lunchtime, I had scored a 96-point word in scrabble ("eloping": a bingo on two different 'double word' boxes). In the afternoon, Nod and I went lawn bowling at the beautiful seaside club that we love, and I played my little bocce ball heart out to victory.
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Nod was very nonchalant about the whole thing, which is probably because he actually goes out into nature on a regular basis and, you know, sees naturey things. Like rainbows. For my library-bound habits, though, this was truly novel. And while I was freaking out in jubilation and dancing all around, I also smiled because I remembered that double rainbows have caused others to freak out, too. Because it's been way too long since you've seen this, I bring for your Sunday enjoyment: Double Rainbow Man. Have an amazing week, everyone!
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