It's never too late.

And I mean flushed in the non-bathroom sort of way

Weighing my pockets with stones of longing

Especially when those days are Saturday and Sunday.

They always come crawling back

Yesterday I watched the movie "Secretary." I have to say, I was fascinated. Afterwards, I started working on a list of possible career paths. First on the list was "secretary."

Actually, I will be doing clerical work next week, Hallelujah! I'm out of my house arrest. I'm going to be filing and sorting and filing and purging for the law office at the bank building. Your favorite and mine! It's looking like the pay will be better than nothing, though, and we all know how much I love pushing paper around. I'm actually really looking forward to it.

I would be looking forward to it more were I completely healthy. I know. In the long trend of my body liking to add insult to injury, the antibiotics I was on to treat my laryngitis led to a blossoming yeast infection. I scheduled an emergency appointment at Emma Goldman (in the hopes that a: it would be less expensive than Trillium and b: I would have a fighting chance at a consultation before next fall). Remember that time Caitlin was home and she ran to me after her check-up with that horror story about the insensitive speculum and the bizarre nurse? Well, I got the same woman, and I recognized her right away because she only has one arm. I was a little intimidated because of Caitlin's tale, but I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt since I trust the Emma Goldman clinic so much, and I worried how much of my sister's story had to do with her discomfort thinking that someone with a visible physical disability might be in charge of looking after her physical well-being. Well, as it turns out, I think my worries were fairly accurate. The woman was a little insensitive with assumptions about my lack of familiarity with my own body, but other than that she was quick and told me what she was doing the whole time. Sure the speculum snapped a little, but that's to be expected under the circumstances, and she even had me hold it open for a while so I was at least slightly in control. Plus, the pillow-case lap cover is always a comfort. All in all, the tab was 50 dollars, lab work was 10 at most, and I only needed over the counter medication. Thank God, but I'm a little anxious for this to be over with. Also, I don't want to be squeamish for our canoe trip or picnic at the lake this weekend, but I guess I'll know better tomorrow.

Enough about my unspeakable conditions, eh? Well, in other news I got my travel speakers in the mail today, so I am almost all set in terms of electronic doo-dads for my year abroad. I'm a little curious about the photo situation, but I have some time yet to think it over. Also not yet decided on the sitar issue.

Yesterday I went to see Hillary's little brother's adaptation of A Midsummer Night's Dream. It was hilarious, and also damn impressive for a piece of drama written by an 11-year-old. Their baby sister was cast as Peasblossom, and Chuck even composed a little musical solo for her. It was lovely, one of the highlights of the production next to the line about Orlando Bloom. It was wretchedly hot in Old Brick, though, so as much as I was loving the experience, once I got Chuck's Hancock and got out of there I was much relieved. Wandered to Prairie Lights for some French Slang, Balzac and Proust with Hill and Tara and Liz. Tara left us for a radio station schmoozing assignment and the rest of us trekked to the library and the Java House. Sometimes I forget how much I love this town. Even with its face changing so drastically, it's still home. Even though it's no longer there, I always still see that TCBY on the corner, and the old fountain where everyone slipped and almost died at least once. It's going to be hard to watch it grow up, but I imagine in some respects the city feels the same way about me.

Zoe's Mom got out of surgery today. They removed at least one tumor from her brain, and she's already talking. Still in intensive care for at least a day or two, I don't know how long, but I was glad to hear Zoe's voice. She left the hospital early to be around people and noise and the sun. I didn't see her, but I heard she met Kim at the Jazz Festival downtown and that things were going well.

Hillary and Tara came over while I was watching "Speedy" with my parents. We watched the end of "The Sheik" with plenty of unnecessary commentary before Tara headed for bed. Hillary stayed long enough for us to reorganize my X-files tapes to find the hidden message and to laugh nearly till we cried about My Little Pony and 3-D movie maker and all the dumb stunts we pulled as kids. Our goal is to recapture that silliness instead of always dreaming up big adventures that require money and more time than we've got. It was so nice to have them over, even in my �tat de mis�re.

Tomorrow the plan is to put all this HGTV to work and organize my room, followed by replacing the ribbon on the old Smith-Corona (you can't say I don't at least try with some fantasies) and to start work on a new swimming suit. Eventually, with any luck, I'll be able to wear it.

No-more-burning-desires at 12:18 a.m.