Madness

Recently I was commenting to a few friends about the famous poet e.e. cummings. To clarify who I was talking about, I told the girls that his is the poetry written exclusively in lower case letters. Then I tacked on, "you know, all his letters are in the downstairs."

Apparently, these girls didn't have Mrs. Sketchley for kindergarten.

Little did I know that "upstairs, downstairs, basement" is actually NOT an international standard for learning to write. What are they teaching kids these days?

And speaking of Southwest Airlines, I just changed my reservation so that I'm coming back to Portland a day later. Because there is no connecting flight, my account has been credited with $8.70. Isn't that fantastic? I wonder what I can use that for. I don't think that will even fly me from Oakland to San Francisco. Maybe it's enough to get me onto a plane for a few minutes between pre-boarding and boarding, but I don't know if they'll let me leave the ground on that. Fat lot of good it does crediting my account with a measly $8.70, huh? Does that even buy a gallon of jet fuel these days? I have no clue. Premium unleaded is running for just over $2 most places, but last time I filled up, it was a Corolla, not a Boeing.

What's really exciting is the fact that I've graduated. I'm down from three counseling appointments weekly to one. It's awesome, like Nicorette. They can't have me quit therapy cold turkey, so they're stepping me down gradually. What cracks me up is that my counselor asked me what I thought was best. Right. Because until this point I've been riding on the coattails of others' decisions, and suddenly I'm able to exercise my own judgment?? I told her that, and she told me it was a good point. I said thanks and ate some more chocolate.