makes me that much wiser so thanks for making me a fighter

First of all, thanks to the marvelous and wise and sagacious and I know that was repetitive duo of Kristine and Aimee who picked me up from work at a particularly bad moment in time and drove me through hellacious traffic and we wandered about and found a French restaurant in Georgetown that had been previously known to be good but was suspiciously empty on a Friday night at 7 PM but we tried it anyway and ended up with cold entrees and hot frites and a bottle of wine and that's an entirely different story altogether and the two of them listened to my blathering bitch and moan session as if I were the only person in the world and they are both wonderful and funny and sweet and generous and really great people to eat, drink and be merry with, and to go to Barnes and Noble with when you want to look at smutty books. Not that they were willing participants in the latter, mind you.

The Man Who Lives in the House and I are not communicating again. Trixie told me he told her he had been "trying to get in touch with me." If that's the case, it's odd how my phone hasn't been ringing, and how I haven't gotten any emails from him. I found out more about him from a phone call with Trixie last night than I have all week, and when I called him at 8 PM on Wednesday, he was asleep. Same with the mornings I've called. Words fail me. I think I'll go knit now. Somewhere other than my furniture-less apartment in the sky.