Pink Soup

I look awful. A person gets used to seeing herself a certain way, then - BLAMMO! - she doesn't sleep for a few decades and suddenly she's not the hot tamale she once was. Also - and science has yet to explain this - there seems to be some direct correlation between the dark circles under my eyes and the height of my hair when I awaken. You don't actually need to know this. It's not important unless you're planning to wake up with, you know, gorgeous Me and instead find that guy from Eraserhead.

Trout called me up and said, "I've made soup. Come over and take it. It's pink and full of nutrients." So I did. This means I am now walking around thinking of pink soups. In the ladies room this morning I was alone and really glad I was alone when I suddenly pictured two bored-stiff socialites in a formal situation and in my head one says, as if it's such a tribulation to draw a breath and speak, "Dagmar, kindly remove your hand from my borscht." If you know me well you might not be alarmed to walk into an apparently empty public restroom and hear laughter. I assure you this is not a common reaction. Daria calls before my first cup of coffee.

Daria: My husband's in Arizona golfing while I set up the new house. Yesterday at 1:30 in the morning Tyler Two wakes me up and says, "Mama, my head's all hot." And he was right. Then Sandro picks up the baby and drops her on her head. He shouts, "Mama! I hurt the baby!" And I run in and the baby's lying on the floor but she doesn't look particularly upset. So I guess he's aiding and abetting her escape and not actually tossing her like a drunken dwarf and now I know why mommies drink. All this before 10 a.m. Tyler called at 10:30. I said, "If you hadn't called I'd have fired you."
Tata: I'm so sorry your misfortune is hilarious!

Last night, Paulie and I cleaned out the room he's been staying in. Business is taking Paulie to Rome for two weeks. When I'm finally out of the New Brunswick apartment, Paulie's moving back in. As breakups go, this is the Gold Standard. Also, his bedrooms are always perilously filled with change and I now know why the U.S. Treasury is empty. It's not Bush et al siphoning off the federal budget into Halliburton. Nope. Paulie Gonzalez has all the pennies, and now I have them in my lunchbox. I feel I should stop people on the street and hand them out to students, who probably don't have the sense to refuse money from strangers. Daria calls again.

Daria: And now with the puking!
Tata: That is inherently funny.
Daria: And you needed to know.

I am thinking the Funny Thoughts. This is probably the moment to mention my new kitchen has reached its peak orangeosity. After a suitable drying period, the faux finishing will commence. If you think I feel funny now wait until I'm holding a sponge and dabbing to subtle Tuscan yellowness for eight hours. My brilliance will know no bounds.