March 20, 2006 - The Hell you say!

So, I'm sitting in my favorite wingchair by the lovely fireplace in my sitting room, you know, the one some brilliant interiorist decided needed to be bricked up, plastered over and partially tiled. My son is three months and one day old and is displayed face down on my husband's chest like the world's chubbiest jetsam, washed up on the cotton shores of the Paternal Tee Shirt. In the other wing chair sits someone I hadn't seen for nearly 8 years until, thank you myspace, she found me, on that site, a couple of weeks ago. Today we drove down, through the beautiful rain, to visit her cousin, who lies in a coma as the result of a car accident last Friday. Strange day. I thought to log on to myspace as we sat, after dinner and a few drinks that she and Rob tossed back to settle the day a bit around her shoulders and pull some of the chafing wrinkles out of the tender places they bind and pinch. And what to my wondering eyes should appear but a message from another long-lost and much-loved friend. And another. "Who the heck is this? Oh. My. God. You're shitting me, right?" That these two particular people should find me on here on the same day, on myspace is seriously rearranging my feng shui. Yes, two myspace messages have actually shifted the placement of my chair in relationship to my wine rack. The whole flow of the room is now set to "odd, with a twist of Jack's Flaming Sense of Vague Amazement."