Maybe I'm Amazed at the Way You Love Me all the Time

Pulling the title from this song. It was playing in a pizza shop we stopped in on our way to the park on Saturday and it has been stuck in my head ever since. Like, hasn't gotten out of it. Sharon and Jeremy will be horrified, but I'm not a big fan of the song and I don't know all the lyrics and melody, so it's basically just that line that keeps repeating in my head. It could get ugly. Time to put in Spring and Chris' Spoon album. Stat.

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You really have to hand it to New York in the springtime. There really isn't a better place to be in the world.

The little things that can seem disturbing in the winter become quaint and endearing features of the intricate tapestry that is New York in spring. It's amazing what a little sunlight and green foliage can do for the spirit. And as a frame for all the odd pictures that you see while walking the streets here.

--A sock in the middle of the sidewalk. Just one--black

--A donut shop right next to the gym. That one should be located right next to a store for people who waste their money.

--A homeless guy with a sign that said "DICK CHENEY SHOT ME. PLEASE HELP."

Utter brilliance. Life in New York is a Comedy of Errors, just in springtime, you finally feel let in on the joke.

I babysat all day Sunday. I'm always amazed that this family seems to call JUST when I feel the need to take it easy and be a dorky kid. Having to babysit early and all day ensured that I'd try to take it easy as far as partying goes. Which I did and didn't. For while I didn't get wasted on Saturday, Swetus and I ended up staying up all night quite literally. Then spending the day with an energetic and loquacious 8 year old, which while lovely and therapeutic, pooped me out like nothing else. When my head hit the pillow Sunday night, I'm pretty sure it didn't move until I had to drag myself out of bed this morning. But I think I still left my brain behind on my pillow. Oh well. It's Monday. Nobody uses their brain on a Monday, anyway.

Drama exploded a bit around me, though I am not directly involved. For once. I certainly don't wish drama on others, but it is refreshing for things to finally be really calm in my life. The weather is beautiful. I'm gaining responsibilities at work and I think I'm doing it pretty well. I'm looking forward to bellydancing this week like nothing else. I realize that with my tax return and my year bonus at work, ICELAND 2007 is a go! [to explain, Sharon and I are going to do a Iceland trip--a quick one--to try to check out the Northern Lights. And to channel the spirit of Bjork--she's not dead you say. I say pish posh. She's weird enough that I think she crosses multiple planes of existence]

I stayed over at Swetus' on Sunday night because he lives just down the street from the family I babysit for. I bring us two big beers. He got me something, too.

"I was in Barnes and Noble and I saw this and had to get it for you."

What was it?

Awww, perfect. And then I look on the inside cover and he's written me a limerick. HA. The boy really does know me well. Nothing like topping off a day with an innocent child watching Ice Age: The Meltdown (highly recommended) and riding bikes in Central Park than with a limerick about pill popping inside the book jacket of a forensic psychiatrist's book.

I'm not going to post the limerick. We both think it's terrible, but it's the thought that counts. But he wins points for drawing on the author's headshot in the back, turning Helen Morrison, M.D. into Captain Yellowtooth, the pirate. Eye patch and all. Vunderbag.

And if you haven't seen it, here is the link to Stephen Colbert at the White House Correspondents' Dinner. That man has quite the set of balls on him, making fun of Bush's approval rating 10 FEET FROM HIM! Remarkable. I send the link to the main page, so that any of you who don't have video on your computers, you can read the entire transcript there. It's one for the ages, people. Promise. Jon Stewart and Stephen Colbert are the best shot for our country's future, I'm convinced.