The computer problem has a memory problem. We were made for each other. I wish I, too, could get rid of stuff or add to my brain to fix my memory deficit.

I had the oddest dream last night. (Feel free to skip to the next paragraph where I describe how I was insulted (!!) outside the grocery store the other day.) In the dream, I was in New York with Allison. She was taking me from where we were working to the part of the city I wanted to be in. I’m skipping lots of stuff, but the main part was that we ended up at a subway station. It was only a very wide flight of concrete steps, with the middle section of steps painted yellow. The yellow stairs were for people going down to the subway, and people came back up to street level on either side. It was dark, and there wasn’t a platform or anything except the steps and a dark, dank, filthy, old, square shaped tunnel, also cement, leading into the ground at just a slight downward angle. It was too dark to even see the tracks. There wasn’t a train yet, but I knew one was coming and that I did not want to get on it. I’m super claustrophobic. I am afraid to get boxes out from under the bed, even. The fact that I rode on a subway in Toronto was a BIG DEAL. Very big. So I asked her if we could leave and she said that we couldn’t, it was too late. I asked her what they did if someone totally freaked out on the train, because I knew that I would, and she said that I’d just have to do it, that there was no other option. I was petrified and kept trying to figure out how to leave. Then I woke up.

Yesterday John and I put Willow in the stroller, which she loves to ride in now that she has mastered walking (smart girl!), and walked to the grocery store to get milk. A woman was watching Willow from afar and came to tell us how cute she was. She started out by saying that her eyes were so, so blue. They are. They’re lovely, and I had her in an old denim shirt of Lexy’s that is faded and really makes her eyes look purty. Anyway, the woman looked at John’s eyes (sky blue) and then mine (brown) and told us about seven times how lucky we were that she got blue eyes. The woman had green eyes, and told us that her kids had brown (Oh, the horror!) and she repeated, again, how lucky we, not Willow, were that her eyes were blue. I was offended. I mean, really, she’s telling me that my eyes are ugly and that Willow is a better person because she has blue eyes. I wanted to point that out to her, but sometimes it just isn’t worth it and I secretly thought that because she was really skanky looking in her too-tight clothes and no bra, that she wouldn’t be smart enough to get my point. Heh. I can be petty, too.

It was cool and windy here today. I love it. Tomorrow we are going to all go visit Lexy’s former teacher. He was in her class for kindergarten and first grade. We *love* her. John is coming, too, which is good because a) I love to spend time with my husband, and b) our hostess is always pouring an oversized glass of wine with little fluffy girly decorations around the stem. I can’t say no to that. Especially after the past few days of sleepless children and biting, biting, seven and a half year olds. “I didn’t bite him that hard,” he had the brass balls to say to me. They lost the planned afternoon at the park and two days of television. Our version, anyway, which is just videos and no cable. But that still gets his attention.

When the memory issues are solved, I’ll post more pictures taken with our new little camera.