imaginarycircus

It is like a terrible crush. I think about it when I'm in the shower, when I'm walking, cooking, eating. It is the last thing I think about before I go to sleep and the first thing I think of when I wake up. David let's me chatter to him about all the time. If the cat didn't just curl up and go to sleep I would probably tell him.



I couldn't get a seat near an outlet today. My laptop is about to run out of juice. More people seem to be camping out here this week and I think it must be because of spring break. Meh.

ETA huzza! people left and I can plug in. No dead laptop! :D Now I will keep writing.

Oh, and St. Patrick's? My New York Irish mother would be boiling cabbage and corned beef if she were alive. My Irish via Brooklyn step-father is doing it instead. He had to put his dog down on Saturday so he is having a hard day. I bet he is having a Guinness right now. He made sure I knew all about Eamon Develera when I was a kid. He pretends he is not a quarter English. He is OK with the Welsh, but he loves Ireland. He qualified for citizenship and has a passport. Man, I wish I could get an Irish passport. I missed it by a generation and I can't qualify through my step-father.

Dinner? I hate both corned beef and cabbage and we don't eat meat. So I'm making shrimp and pea risotto. Peas are green? Irish cuisine is big on shellfish. And maybe I'll pick up some Murphy's or some Harp. And besides I'm American despite my Irish heritage, which is all futzed up with Italian genes. :P Erin Go Bragh!