Phonautogram.

No, it's not the cold, damp New England weather that is giving me goosebumps right now. It's hearing the voice of someone long gone recorded not quite 150 years ago that's making me shiver. Wow.

Speaking of eye makeup -

Generally, I clothe myself to cover my nakedness rather than to make a statement. My hairstyle is chosen for minimal fuss (any more than five minutes combined shower/styling is too much). Never bothered with learning how to wear makeup as early attempts resulted in my looking like a clown.

Nonetheless, this article from November's Real Simple intrigued me. What would I have to lose aside from maybe $10-$12 in supplies and maybe 10 minutes of my time for trying?

Surprisingly enough, I loved the look. Loved the definition to my eyes and lips. Really appreciated how the concealer made me look less tired. As an added bonus, the now regular three-minute morning ritual makes me feel as though I'm truly "putting my best face forward."

Have since purchased a bit of eye shadow for days when I want to look really gussied up, but don't think I'll ever go for blush or foundation. Too much like warpaint, those last two.

Frail, But Not Feeble.



The number one man in my life still knows how to work the camera.



(Look at that eye makeup!)

Wow, April's just around the corner. Imagine that.

Will be spending a bit of time over at my other digs feting Poetry Month. Please stop by - the more the merrier. As always, reader (poetry) contributions are gratefully received.

Am thinking that, come hell or high water, the peas and radishes need to go in soon.

I'm sad to have had to do it, but the roommate needed to go. Stuff got so bad that I was sleeping and showering with the doors locked. Waking hours were spent either at the library or locked in my room. This was not worth the scant 1/2 rent and no utilities that she contributed.

Asked her to leave last Monday and she moved out on Saturday. Got everything I needed returned returned. Have no idea where she is, what she's doing, what to do with her mail. All I know is that my home, which was hijacked for a couple months now, is slowly returning to me.

Talked to Mrs. Landlord yesterday about how weird I was feeling and how I was only just understanding how much stress the roommate put me through. (Still can't sleep through the night, for example. The night after she left, I almost wet the bed. Only had that happen once before: 9/12/01.) Mrs. Landlord told me to be patient and to just enjoy having my space back.

Again, I feel really badly about all this. Old roommate was a troubled, very intelligent person trying to get back on her feet. I wish things didn't have to end the way they did. Need to take care of myself, though (and I guess that's what I'm doing).

Back to work.



Every day's a bit like this, but somehow Monday's always the worst.

Heartrending.

I get an rss feed from Le Monde, the "moderate" French paper...over the course of three days, all I've seen is coverage of the increasing Palestinian death tolls due to "Israeli aggression" and fiery rhetoric from Abbas about the derailment of the "Peace Process" (code language to me of the Israelis not putting up with the Palestinian BS.) Nothing about the Israeli side of things, though.

What's so piss-poor pathetic about all this is, back when I was a student in France during the first Gulf War, I remember there being actual French Media bureaus with real live reporters doing Real Reporting Live* from Tel-Aviv, Eilat, Jerusalem. A2 (Now called France 2, the subject of a big trial over falsification of photos regarding a Palestinian/IDF shootout) 's offices were particularly badly hit then, and I remember vividly the Apple A2 logo pinned to plastic wrap that was there in place of a wall that had been blasted away by a missile a couple hours earlier.

Do the stations still have posts there?

When did French media start its decadence? About the same time as in the US? Was it such a creepy slow thing that I never noticed until too late?

***

* During that time, I remember quizzing the 'man on the street' about what they thought "garder un profil bas" meant. (That was the buzz term at the time - as far as I know, there still is no good translation of "keep a low profile" today.) No one really knew, but they accepted it. I think it was Gen. Schwartzkopf who kept using it in the briefing tent in Kuwait.

Yeah, I'll rest when I'm dead.

In addition to the health, work and school blues, we've got some additional foolishness from a now unmedicated (and unhinged) roommate.

I could handle work, health and school if home were okay. However, the door-slamming and the occasional hysterics on the phone are starting to wear me down a bit. Tried talking to her about things before, but got my head bitten off. Am now completely ignored. This makes for a somewhat stressful environment where it's hard to concentrate or relax.

Thank heavens for knitting and the cats.