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We had a few drops of rain last night, which the SF Chronicle this morning amusingly called a "tiny downpour." Um... is that the same as a "colossal trickle?"
Because I live in a climate without any discernible summer, I've had to do some shopping for light clothes for my upcoming trip to Israel. While in one particular store on Saturday, I was asked my name by the helpful salesgirl in the fitting room. I enunciated as clearly as possibly, something I've learned to do after years upon years of being asked to repeat my name.
But this salesgirl didn't ask me to repeat my name, nor did she ask me to spell it. Later, I peeked at what she'd written on her notepad: "Ialic." I must give her points for creativity, but honestly, it made me wonder just what the hell people have been hearing all these years when I tell them my name. (Case in point: I met a woman through friends Saturday--she asked me to repeat my name and then exclaimed, "Oh, Ay-Ellen... like Ellen DeGeneres!")
I'm bogged down with work these days--feeling pressured to get everything done before I leave. I must get ahead on 2 weeks' worth of freelance projects (not sure if I'll have Internet access during my 11 days in Israel) and I'm struggling to finish one particular editing project that kind of dropped into my lap a few weeks ago. I was asked to edit a book. I've never edited a book. Not even a book-to-be. But I'm having fun with the job and, more importantly, I'm learning from the experience--what more could I ask? (Other than a finished product that sells a few million copies, naturally.)
Lastly, I'm happy to report that my friends Aviva and Craig--now excitedly settling in to their new life in Okinawa--survived their first typhoon with no major damage, just some stories to tell the grandchildren.
Here's what Phoebe thinks of Bush letting his buddy Scooter off the hook:
Of course, that could just be her opinion of my cooking.