Today my friend Steve is coming to visit from Minnesota. I'm really excited. I love showing off my city and region and he's never been here before. I just hope that the weather cooperates at least somewhat. The old saw about Seattle is if you don't like the weather, wait five minutes. And generally that's true. In Alaska they may have fifty different words that mean snow. In Seattle, it seems it would be handy to have at least fifty different words to mean rain. The hard, cold rain, the hard warm rain, the drizzle, the mist. The mist is my favorite, the consistency of the spray they use in Las Vegas to keep people from dying of heat stroke as they trudge from casino to casino in high summer. Seattle's weather encourages poetry and other literary aspirations. Although not all are gothic like mine, the gloom, the chill and the sudden expansion of the landscape on sunny days reinforces my emotional ambivalence.
It's true, I need miracle ear. Was talking to my coworker Joyce yesterday and almost thought I was being harrassed. I heard a sigh, and what I thought were the words, "On me!" When what she actually said, when I asked for clarification was, "ennui!" Mama mia.