40 Truths and a Lie

I, not being intoxicated, just managed to spill half a bottle of Rolling Rock all over half my bathroom. I genuinely enjoy cheap American beer. (I wonder: If beer is supposed to be good for your hair, why is it not good for my toilet seat (which, grotesquely, is plastic)?) I hadn't used the new mop before, but it seems to work OK. I still need to buy more Swiffer Wet, no matter how really kind of gross that sounds. There is pie in the fridge, which I have not yet begun to eat. I tend to say words like "fridge" when I drink cheap American beer. Or this terrific Czech swill they sell 1-pint-9 for 99 cents. I don't buy it if the store's charging a buck 14, and neither should you.

I've heard alcohol (rubbing or similar) is good for insect bites. There's a bite on my left elbow, which may or not be from Canada. I've spent an inordinate amount of time lately trying to memorize the words to "O Canada." I've made little progress. But if I say "oot" or "aboot," it's not out of affectation, it's just that I, inexplicably (seeing as I come from neither old nor new Scotland, and my nearest Scottish relatives have been dead these hundreds of years), always have. Speaking of elbows, my knees are currently unattractively dimply. This is not vanity, or subjective reasoning on my part.

I just got a call about a job. At 9:30 at night. I think I am rightfully suspicious.

I am wearing navy blue espadrilles from France, which I bought on my last trip there, along with two other pairs of shoes. I generally do not travel to shop, although I know people who do. That being said, this last trip to (O) Canada yielded a nice plaid picnic blanket (we needed it, as we were going to see The Tempest, fittingly, outdoors by the sea) and some wine. I should've bought a raincoat. I could use one even here in New York, in July. Rained in the late afternoon. Have an umbrella, but I'm afraid of being struck by lightning. Yes, I really do think I'm that special.