It starts with just a little glance now
Right away you're thinkin 'bout romance now
You know you ought to take it slower
But you just can't wait to get to know her
--- Beach Boys, "Here Today"
"'And after all,' she said, pouring out the wine, 'why do you pursue me like this? I give you no encouragement, I never have. I told you plainly at Bruton Street that I liked you as a friend but had no use for you as a lover. Why do you persecute me? What do you want of me? If you think to gain your point by wearing me out, you have reckoned short; and even if you were to succeed, you would only regret it. You do not know who I am at all; everything proves it."
--- Patrick O'Brien, Post Captain
It's like Ram wrote that about me, even down to the oh so familiar chastisement, "You don't know me." Uncanny.
I was reading a book about animals to the kids at The Job. One of the animals identified was a blue-footed booby. "Hee hee," giggled J, a three-year-old boy. "Booby."
The Beavis and Butthead experience starts early, don't it?
The insurance company of the woman who rear-ended my father a few weeks back appears to have admitted responsibility at last. They're paying for the rental car my parents had to get, and have offered a pittance for the value of the totalled vehicle --- but that's better than denying responsibility, as before.
My mother bought a new car, a Kia. They're supposed to be cheap and reliable.
Speaking of cars, I met up with the Ex --- who is due to spawn her little bastard next month --- and we completed our last transaction on the car. She paid me the balance of the absurdly tiny price I asked of her for it last year, and I handed over the title. It's the end of another era; there seem to be quite a few little acts of closure in this saga, but then, that's natural, I suppose. When you build a life together over four years or so, the pieces unravel slowly. Some things last longer than you think they will. And there are other things you can never kill.