growing in the goo

Why does it seem like the predominant theme in European marriages depicted in movies and books is infidelity? It drives me insane. I'm going to the book club tomorrow, and as such, I had to cram - as in, read The Unbearable Lightness of Being from cover-to-cover.

Well, I gamely held on until page 150, then I decided to toss it aside. The Euro-vision of a "just because I sleep with other women doesn't mean that I don't love you" marriage had sufficiently infused me with enough malaise for one night.

So I suppose I'll be "that girl" at my first meeting, but oh well. It's hard to persist trudging through an unpleasant book when I have one that I love waiting for me in my bag.

(Which I suppose sums up my view on unfaithful marriages - why stray when you have a very good one waiting for you?)

(And in that vein, I should reveal the name of the one that I love: Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell, by Susanna Clarke. It's not for everyone, but I find it compelling.)

This afternoon Mel and I sat outside Lawson's. She was eating her Lawson's-bought goods, I was tentatively digging into my sorta slimy ham sandwich. We were located near a street singer, and he started to play a pre-recorded melody. He waved a tambourine of sorts, then said in a strange, serious tone (into the mic) "If you're happy and you know it. Clap your hands." He repeated himself...

And then launched into this awesome rant about how kids these days don't know the meaning of "perseverance, responsibility, and" (crap, I forget the last word - and it was a good one, too...). Anyhow. He also promoted voting, saying that people should vote if they want change. It was totally a Schoolhouse Rock moment.

Speaking of civic responsibility, when we were walking back to work, we came to the busy intersection, complete with construction workers holding huge stop signs. Some cars honked, due to impatience. Or so I thought. But then a chorus of sirens came into our hearing, and we realize that an emergency vehicle (or several) was trying to come through the tunnel and up the other side.

I quickly became very anxious. Every second counts. After facing 100 honks from panicked drivers, the construction lady finally got the memo and took down her stop sign. Cars started to inch forward, some clueless pedestrians lumbered across the street. A taxi stopped to let some important business men out.

I was all about to get out and try my hand at directing traffic. The traffic was thicker, more honking, cars were backing up the wrong way to try to move. A white box truck was blocking our view of what was coming.

Mel said, nervously, "I hope it's not an ambulance..."

And then it came into view.

A single motorcycle, and one limo with some flags waving. It wasn't just a motorcade, it was a lame motorcade, because the person inside only rated ONE motorcycle, and no decoy cars. We could not believe it. All that! Mel mentioned that at least it wasn't actually someone in danger, and I thought that was a great point of view. Especially considering I think I was more irritated that my emotions had been toyed with. I had been worried!

(Sort of along the lines when someone you care about hasn't called or contacted you, and you're like "Maybe he's in the hospital?! Or something bad happened?! Oh, GOD I hope he's okay!!" And you get worked up...and then it's like "Oh. No, he's okay - he's just a jerk.)

(And no, that wasn't a hint to anyone who might possibly take that as a hint. Really. It's just providing an example. OK?)

So, thank God no one was hurt and needed medical attention. But I wish that people would use motorcades more wisely, and know when to speed up, and when to chill out. A lot of people were inconvenienced, and it was a minor miracle that no one had been injured in the scampering process.