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One thing about me is, I never swear. For some reason I just never picked it up. Once, a few years ago at a party, Francis asked me to do him the favor of saying fuck, cupping my hands around his ear and speaking into them so that no one else would hear. He got such a kick out of it. Last night Michael was indignant because I had forgotten part of a list of states he'd asked me to memorize, for a specific occasion, months and months and months ago. Months and months and months ago! By the Egg's estimation, it had been a full year. Michael had memorized another list at the same time, and he had forgotten as much of his as I had of mine. "Jesus Christ, Michael!" seemed like the thing to say. We had fun last night. We were all a bit prickly and probably drank too much, but we had fun last night.Today is a pretty day, in it's own way. I stood in the window watching the kids walking home from the elementary school in their brightly colored jackets, an umbrella over each head. They were like a tiny army marching out from the underpass, a tiny army with occassional full-sized captains scattered throughout. I'd like to think that they all live in a giant house together, and everywhere they go, they go as a group, filling the sidewalk, bumping into each other's backpacks and laughing at jokes that don't make any sense. I hope it rains all night. It's a good night for rain.
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