"i could not see any wrong in you, and you saw none in me"

I don't really know why but "Remember the Mountain Bed" has been running through my head for 2 days. It got so bad I started humming without realizing I was humming. Last night I finally had the chance to listen to it thinking that would solve the problem but alas it seems as if this might be permanent.

"Problem" is the wrong word. If it were, say, a Nickelback song that would be a problem. Woody Guthrie lyrics sung by Jeff Tweedy are heavenly.

It's still snowing here. It's January. Neither of these things are especially good for my mental health. Rumor has it the sun came out yesterday but as my computer is facing a corner I did not see it therefore it did not happen. I finally confessed that I've been pretending the dark cloud of seasonal depression wasn't hovering above me. The good news is January is almost over. The bad news is February is next.

Thankfully I have the warm snuggly blanket of Anna Karenina to keep me warm and happy. I'm reading the Peaver/Volokhonsky translation and it's divine. You know, I always figured I was a critical reader, but talking to Peter makes me so glad I wasn't an English major. He's constantly worried about social context and cultural norms and societal rules. I'm just happy to be reading some outstandingly real characters in universal situations. Every time he'll bring something up I swear I stare at him with a blank look and say "Why don't you just READ it?" I wish I could call in sick to put some real time into it, but I know the guilt would get the better of me. Plus I do have a weekend off coming up and as of right now no plans. I'd like to keep it that way and devour this book.

I can't believe I'm even going to mention this, but hearing about Heath Ledger's death last night was oddly affecting. Young entertainers without obvious drug and alcohol problems don't usually just die like that. For some reason I kept saying I hoped it wasn't suicide. An accidental overdose I could handle, but not suicide. I'm certainly not someone who follows celebrity culture, but I did always respect him. I always thought he was a good little actor even back in the 10 Things I Hate About You days (The Patriot I cannot forgive but I do primarily blame Mel Gibson for that whole mess) and his role choices were interesting. I guess for purely selfish reasons I'm sad I won't be seeing his work any longer.

On that happy note, I'm off to dinner. Even though I brought soup I think Molly and I are going to go out. Someplace spicy.

I'm hoping for Thai.