Everytime it rains hard lately, and then the sun comes out right after, I’ve been going outside to look for rainbows. No luck until this weekend, when we were driving into town on Friday night and saw this. It hadn’t even been raining out at our house, but I won’t quibble about particulars. I was just happy to see it. “It’s a sign!” I said, and my husband sighed, because as I’ve said here before, I do say that about everything. What can I say, I want to believe in the communicative abilities of the universe. But all that aside, it was pretty. And it lasted a long time, before fading away.
So welcome to Monday. The weekend slid past so quickly, but then the days all seem to be running together lately. We have one more week of the Tour de France, after which I will finally be able to return to my regularly scheduled programming. I can’t tell you how behind I am on my shows: I haven’t watched last week’s Blow Out yet, I have TWO Entourages and a Comeback, plus a 30 Days and a Made. Plus I haven’t been able to watch Dr. Phil in AGES, and I’m in serious withdrawl. I’ll bet you dollars to donuts I’ve missed something important! (That’s a Dr. Phil reference, just so you know.) What can I say: the Tour is hard work. Sacrifices must be made. But by this time next week, we’ll be an all-Gilmore, all the time household, if I have anything to say about it. Payback, and all that.
Then again, by the time the Tour ends, my husband will most likely have gotten a copy of the new Harry Potter book, so he won’t care what I’m watching. Or doing. Or saying. He just disappears into it, and he’s gone, for as long as it takes him to finish. I have to admit, there’s something so admirable about this, a book that can just stop time for you. So while he’s immersed in that, I’ll have my shows, and my new Mitch Herdberg CD/DVD (an article about him in EW recently compelled me to finally break down and buy some of his stuff) and the new Nick Hornby, which I have been very much looking forward to (although maybe not at Potter-mania levels, but close). How is it that the more I read, the longer my list of books I want to read becomes? It’s never ending. There are worse problems to have, though, than too much to read. Like….not enough. Yikes. Don’t even want to think about it.
oh, and ps to Teresa: happy late birthday. Hope you enjoyed your telescope.