Swallowing = Ouch!

What month are we in? February? It's hard to tell with the bizarre weather we've been having. Now, I've always thought that talking about the weather is dreadfully boring and should be something left for when you have absolutely nothing else to say. But, seriously, what is up with our weather? The sun is shining, warm winds are blowing, and there is no snow in sight. Anywhere. The trees must wonder whether they should bloom or drop leaves and the birds must wonder whether they got confused and flew South at the wrong time of year. Meanwhile, on the other side of North America, New York got dumped on with a record 68cm of snow! Days like this make me think that this is the way the world screams out its displeasure and unfortunately no one is listening.

The weekend was good except partway through I ended up coming down with an intense sore throat that doesn't seem to be abating. I am determined to get myself in good health by next weekend. I have something scheduled and I can't be sick. On the agenda for this week: lots of tea, rest, soup, hot baths, and massages. And water. I don't drink enough water, do you?

And because I don't have the energy to type anything more. Here's a poem that I really like:

It's Raining in Love

I don't know what it is,
but I distrust myself
when I start to like a girl
a lot.

It makes me nervous.
I don't say the right things
or perhaps I start
to examine,
evaluate,
compute
what I am saying.

If I say, "Do you think it's going to rain?"
and she says, "I don't know,"
I start thinking: Does she really like me?

In other words
I get a little creepy.

A friend of mine once said,
"It's twenty times better to be friends
with someone
than it is to be in love with them."

I think he's right and besides,
it's raining somewhere, programming flowers
and keeping snails happy.
That's all taken care of.

BUT
if a girl likes me a lot
and starts getting real nervous
and suddenly begins asking me funny questions
and looks sad if I give the wrong answers
and she says things like,
"Do you think it's going to rain?"
and I say " It beats me,"
and she says, "Oh,"
and looks a little sad
at the clear blue California sky,
I think: Thank God, it's you, baby, this time
instead of me.

Richard Brautigan