(content note: direwolf fatalities, feminine hygiene products, and excessive italics)
1. I am finally watching "Game of Thrones" and I don't understand how anyone who hasn't read the books has the faintest idea who's who. Are we supposed to be able to tell Robb Stark and Jon Snow apart? Because I can't, half the time, and I've read three of the books (I eventually figured out that if I was shouting at the actor to stop mouth-breathing it was Jon Snow). Also, thank goodness I already knew about (spoiler!) Bad Direwolf Fates. When Lady met hers and there was that horrible truncated whine, both my dogs jerked their heads up off the couch, stared at the television, and then looked to me with expressions like a child's when s/he asks where Bambi's mother is. If I hadn't known that was coming, I would have been shrieking my own head off, which would not have helped the situation.
2. Monday I had one of those days. No sleep, tiffing stupidly with Berowne, feeling physically awful, work frustratingly unproductive, and when I went to my car at lunch I found a giant crack in the windshield. Insurance will cover the repair, and I work in a city where I am grateful if my car has all four tires when I return to it at the end of the day, but I still did not handle this with aplomb. I handled it with total nonplomb, in fact, and if I had not been able to eventually find that lone pint of Vanilla Heath Bar Crunch when I headed to the grocery store after work there would have been an Issue. (There almost was anyway, because it took me ages to find it among the endless pints of Chubby Hubby and Late Night Snack and Greek Frozen Are You Kidding Me Yogurt and, of course, the coffee version, so many pints of the coffee version, WHY UNIVERSE WHY, and all the other patrons got to see a woman pacing in front of the ice cream while her upper lip slowly curled back from her teeth, with nothing else in her basket but a box of tampons, and I bet a LOT of people looked for the commercial film crew.)
3. My local library found out about my Boston library card and revoked my privileges. At least I assume that's what happened, because I can't log in to the local website any more; I get a stern message saying there is something wrong with my account and I need to call them. There is no way I am calling a library that just caught me cheating on it.
4. I got my library privileges revoked. I feel like we all need to sit with that information for a moment. When I think about it, I alternate between hysterical laughter and such deep shame that I want to call Berowne and say, "That pipe dream you have about us living on a boat and sailing around the world? I'm packed. Also, you must call me Busty St. Claire from now on."
5. Berowne's band played a show two weeks ago at which the dance floor was amazing. Bond-with-total-strangers-over-how-that-dude-is-dancing amazing. There was a woman in thigh-high boots dirty-dancing to every song, including "Froggie Went A-Courtin'". I didn't even know that could be done.
6. Things are lovely with Berowne, despite stupid tiffs and having to say, "I was trying to stay on the dance floor during your song, but someone was farting and Divinyls over there hit me in the face with her hair," after the show. He was very understanding.
7. I have an MRI scheduled for Monday to follow up with the worrisome spots my last mammogram found. Not stressed about this at all, nope. Ugh.