My Eyebrows Are Soaking

Today was a nothingy kind of day.

French came and went (I failed. Who is surprised? My command of the English language is limited as it is. Adding French to the equation is both cruel, and hysteria inducing. I am not impressed.), I trotted home in the sweltering heat. I like the word "swelter". I then sat in front of the computer for hours upon hours, talking to el Marina.

This morning, however, I received a letter.

It was - how to put this? - um, interesting, to say the least. Thanks, babe.

I really like receiving letters. Why is it so much more fun to get a proper snail mail letter, complete with stamp, envelope and postman? Well, the postman didn't come through the door. He just delivered the post, in a friendly postman fashion. I find it highly amusing that my father used to be a postman. He is not called Pat, though. Sorry. But anyway, feel free to send me as many letters as you like. Poison pen letters are welcomed with open arms, although, I put my hand down with a firm foot when it comes to anthrax. Death and disease is not part of the postal service experience.