Sunday, October 16, 2016
The Yellow Bus
Once again, I got my butt to French class yesterday morning. Right up until I left the house I entertained notions of playing hooky -- I hadn't done my homework for a variety of stupid reasons, and I just didn't feel motivated. But I worked on it while I ate breakfast and I got enough done that I thought I could justifiably put in an appearance. I don't know why I fight myself about this every week.
(And then whine about it, which I'm sure you love.)
I was going to do a photo walk afterwards, but the weather looked dicey and I was carrying my books so I came home. Instead I put Olga on a lead and took her to Hampstead Heath, where she ran and ran after squirrels real and imaginary, working off a lot of accumulated energy.
Which is a good thing, because today's forecast calls for a 100% chance of rain. Photo- or dog-walking will probably be impossible.
Olga and I found a groovy VW bus on our walk. Olga even figured out a clever way to get herself into the picture:
Such an attention hog.
I was just reading the Times and marveling at Trump's latest attempts to get attention by inferring that Hillary Clinton was on drugs during the last presidential debate. The man is insane.
I do, however, approve of Cover Girl's recent move to hire a makeup-loving boy as its newest "face." The modern embrace of gender fluidity is a fabulous thing -- it more truly reflects us all as humans, and any time we break down lines and barriers we're moving toward that common humanity. (I'm sure some suits at the corporate level are more interested in developing the gigantic, untapped male makeup market! Being generally anti-makeup for everybody, I can't see it on myself, though. Or maybe just a little eyeliner?)