when we arrived in our long-abandoned niagara falls apartment, mr. m wrinkled his nose and proclaimed that it smelled. moi, being congested as all get-out, asked if it still smelled like curry. no, mr. m replied, it smells like ass. well, thank heaven for small mercies like my nasal congestion. we have not lived here in 5 weeks, so whatever ass smell wafted through the air, it did not belong to us, and as forebearing as i am when it comes to our own personal ass smells, i will not put up with stranger ass aroma. i just won't. can you hold that against me? no, i didn't think so.
chicago was great. the little that i saw when i wasn't busy being a bed-ridden consumptive heroine of a victorian english novel, holding a discreetly blood-splattered hankie to my pale lips, was just as i remembered it. in fact, i felt like i'd never left. i got the flip side of a similar but much worse sense of deja-been there, deja-done that when we drove into niagara falls last night. and now, while i swoon consumptively every once in a while (i hate how weak illness makes me!), we are packing up our belongings (which have mysteriously multiplied - arrrrghh! materialism, how i hate thee! your subtle lures, your sensuous smiles, your pretty pretty baubles i simply cannot do without!) and on tuesday we go home.
do you care? no? then why aren't you reading something interesting elsewhere?