I wrote this over two months ago now (July 6, 2004), and much of it seems so outdated. But, I figured I ought to post it anyways.
I had trouble sleeping again. Thoughts of Norah's milky skin and demure, batting eyelashes lured me from the rest I needed. Her sweet voice and my mind's playback of her witty comments didn't help, either. I got way less sleep than I intended. But, thanks to diphenhydramine hydrochloride I was able to sleep through the entire night without getting up for the first time in many, many months.
Waking up felt like death. I had a headache and could barely get out of bed. Not having a choice about it always makes it much easier, though, I've found. My boys continue to be unruly and difficult. I wasn't surprised when they lost quietest cabin as well as cleanest.
I felt very loved today—I got six pieces of mail. There were letters from friends (including my friend in Holland) and even one from a diary reader who I've never had the opportunity of meeting.
I'm starting to get back into my groove again here—running around, being crazy, and connecting with young people. Because I am so spread thin I get precious little time to really connect one on one with many campers. But, hopefully my love for them and for all people will shine enough that they can get some of it even from our brief interactions.
I got to pop the huge blackheads on Nick's face. I'd been noticing them for the past week and they'd been calling to me, singing like the sirens of old, beckoning me to their bounty. He was surprised when I mentioned them to him a few days ago, and he seemed unaware that one could even pop such a thing. I asked if I could have a go, and he answered with an apprehensive maybe. Tonight, though, he seemed happy to let me give them a few healthy squeezes.
So, I squeezed and squeezed. It wasn't so easy. I really had to anchor my hands around his entire head in order to get proper pressure on the right places. And, sometimes heads can be slippery—especially heads that can grow such large blackheads!
I felt like I was hugging an unyielding Earth, wrapping my arms around it as if my tiny frame might be enough to bend it to my will. Yet, somehow, due to some folly of some god I was able to prevail against the obvious superiority of the giant sphere—some deity must have taken pity on me, as in a fairy tale. At that moment it was like a giant gopher emerged from the ground where my arms squeezed so tightly.
Except that the gopher wasn't made of flesh and bones. It was mostly made of an oily paste of white blood cells and yellowish mush. But, it was definitely the size of a giant gopher. And it wasn't a planet I was squeezing, but rather Nick's slightly–less–than–planet–sized cranium. But, it sure made me think of a planet and a gopher.
Now it's time for sleep. Maybe tonight I won't waste my time thinking about Norah anymore. I told her last night that she made me go pitter patter and she seemed to not believe me. Young girls can be so na´ve. Why would I say it if it wasn't true?
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