The musings of a sick woman.

These are the musings of a sick woman.

And by "sick," mean "ill." And for you youngsters who may be reading this, "ill" means unwell, or ailing from a condition or disease. It's not like, "that jacket is so ILL, man." Or whatever the kids are saying these days. I'm not up on the YouthSpeak lately, since I no longer spend my days around teenagers.

Yes, I am being forced to stay home and rest for a few days. Doctor's orders. Seems I've had an exacerbation of my asthma, and I'm moving at the same snail's pace as our ancient landlord, Luigi. In fact, I think he passed ME on the sidewalk yesterday. I've learned a lot sitting around the house. The sun hits the floor in a really beautiful way between 10am and noon, and the cats like to soak it in. The Today Show goes on for way too long, and Hank sleeps a lot.

So, I'll take this forced break to share some stuff with y'all.

The other day, I was walking down 7th Avenue, and I realized I did not hear ANY come-ons from whores. Simon and Garfunkel need to pay another visit to NYC, because things have changed a bit since they wrote "The Boxer." I think the whores have moved from 7th Avenue to another location.

Dean and I were on the train the other night. Across from us, a man and his young daughter were sharing a pizza. I said to them, "We just had dinner, thanks though," joking around with them. They looked at each other tentatively, and in a thick accent that sounded vaguely Russian, the man said to me, "If you would enjoy, come?" It was really sweet, and I wondered if I should take a slice just to be polite, but we really had just eaten.

We also saw a fantastic show this past Saturday. It made me excited about theatre, about how it can bring about change, and it reminded me why we do this. We saw the middle schoolers of the United Nations International School perform the musical "Hairspray," directed by our good friend, Tim Hall. It was awesome. There must have been 60 kids in it, and they were all so committed and funny! Hearing the message of "Hairspray" come from the mouths of 12-13 year olds was moving, and made the show's message even clearer, in a way. I teared up a lot, as usual. They'll remember that for the rest of their lives, and that's pretty powerful stuff. Especially for the kid who played the flamboyant Mr. Pinky.

I've got other ideas for things to write, but staring at this screen is making my eyes hurt and I'm a little dizzy- more so than usual. Dean and I are going to make our Valentine's Day dinner tonight, since I was too sick to do it on the actual day. But with us, every day is Valentine's Day.

Go ahead and roll your eyes. I know I'm right.