I know that I've been neglecting you lately, but I haven't been feeling very sparkly. And sparkly is sort of my trademark.
At the bug festival today, a woman and I stepped up to the collection of a boy who looked to be twelve or thirteen. "Do you do your own mounting?" the lady asked him. The collection was very professionally done, very impressive. "Yes." "And how long have you been collecting?" He looked at us seriously from under lowered eyebrows, as though he was used to getting this question and being unsatisfied with the response. "About nine years." The woman and I exchanged glances but passed on adding further insult to any past injuries. She asked him where he had found a certain very large moth.
My friend Paul just stopped by on his way home to Yakima to drop off some new headphones, marking the end (I hope) of the month of birthday celebrations. The festivities were many and varied and climaxed Thursday night with an evening of ill-advised debauchery that resulted in several peculiar bruises and a few hours worth of blank spots in my memory. (A? Any idea what I might have done to obtain a bruise in the middle right side of my chest?) It's only a few times a year that I am that girl, and I only remember afterwards just why that is.
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