Coded green.

Saturday 19 August 2000

Me, dark

Pic of the day: At the end of the day.

Key events of the day

Shopping continued, as the bank account was not yet completely flattened. After a late breakfast, we drove to one of the nearest malls, and then to another. Bought a bikini and an Africa skirt for SuperWoman and a tee-shirt and a skirt for her "little" sister. And wool body clothes for Old Friend's baby. We hunted and hunted for shoes, but to no avail. It's nice to look at when they try them on, though.

After a long visit to the bookshop, we were set to return to the car. SW to Cutie: "The car keys, please." Cutie: "Huh? YOU have those." "Who, me?" "Yeah, you drove." "Oh yeah. Well, I don't have them now." In fact, she didn't even have pockets. So there wasn't a lot of places she could have put them ... OK, let's not go there. Instead, we backtracked to the very first shop we entered. There she had tried on some clothes, and duly forgotten the car keys in the booth. Some thoughtful soul had given them to the cashier, who seemed utterly unsurprised. Me, I thought it was great fun, and teased my best friend repeatedly.

We called and ordered a pizza from Valentino's. I had a mobile phone on my hip, as is good and proper, so all we needed was the phone number to Valentino's. Luckily the younger sister had found a couple of her friends, one of whom just happened to remember the number (it ends in 4445). Cutie recommended Pizza number 11, though she could not remember what was in it. So SuperWoman called Valentino's and asked what was on number 11. But the noise level in the mall was too high too hear it, so she just ordered one. There was ham on it, which I think looked really disgusting. I mean, it's pink, as if straight from the pig. Anyway, that was our late lunch.


In the evening we went to Old Friend, SW's older sister, and her husband, to see their baby and to eat a late dinner. The husband had made dinner. He is a capable cook, and a nice guy all around, but sadly slightly tainted by socialism. He is a teacher. But the food looked good. I could not get myself to take a bite, as I was shivering with fever from sometime during the car trip and until the end of the meal. I also suffered from bouts of diarrhea and from pain in the guts, none of them conductive to enjoying a beef meal.

I got better during the evening. My best guess is that I still harbor some disgusting bacteria from the train ride, and that these flare up whenever they are given food. SuperWoman thinks it is hypochondria. Let's hope so, in that case there should be no risk of transmitting it to the baby. Not that I touched its food anyway. (The baby is still 100% breast fed.)

It's really fascinating to hear (and see) SuperWoman discuss politics. She's radiating energy like a small star. She sits on the edge of her chair, ready to pounce on her hapless prey. The poor socialist set her off today, nor is this the first time. They quarreled the first time they met. He must necessarily know how she reacts. Perhaps they like it? I prefer to discuss with people who agree with me on a reasonable number of things, enough that we can understand each other. I have yet to see any fruitful discussion between people of completely contrary opinions. This occasion was no exception, but I guess they like it that way.

And I, of course, enjoyed the show. I felt much better when Cutie drove home in the pouring rain. She is a cautious and soft driver, very comfortable.

Yesterday <-- This month --> Tomorrow?
One year ago

Visit the Diary Farm for the older diaries I've put out to pasture.

I welcome e-mail:
Back to my home page.