I like rain when it falls gently on the windows and soaks into the garden, dipping the roses heads, heavy with water, and depositing sparkling droplets on the wide, water-lily-like leaves of my nastertiums. Today the air is misty with rain. The church is shrouded in a gray drizzle, I can hardly see the steeple. I'm going to go make myself another cup of coffee and get some work done while my daughter is asleep...
I got a very odd e-mail this morning. Odd because I am now on someone's mailing list I didn't expect to be on, and odd because it was a really old, bad, dirty joke. So now I have to revise my opinion of this person and wonder why I have suddenly appeared on the mailing list, and how I can tactfully get off it. Since it's a business contact, I don't want to block the mail. But since it's someone I rarely hear from, and who I can call on the phone, it shouldn't matter if I do block the e-mail. Decisions, decisions. This is the second time this has happened. I write a business letter and suddenly get put on a social e-mail list that mostly deals in bad jokes. I have a very particular sense of humor. Jokes I think are hysterical are like this one:
Rumsfeld bursts into the oval office to give George Bush the news that there has been a terrorist attack in South America and that there are three Brazilian people dead.
Bush is very upset and sits with his head in his hands for a couple of minutes, until he finally looks up and asks,"How much is a brazilian?"
Or this one:
I was asked to run a marathon. I said, "Piss off".
They said "come on, it's for spastics and blind kids.
"Then I thought ... fuck, I could win this ...
Anyway, it's something I'll have to think about.