Status

All is well here. I am currently -- i.e. as usual -- living like the queen of a small and somewhat impoverished nation with no subjects whatsoever. A visiting delegation from a neighboring country (i.e. my mother) did bring me flowers in tribute for something or other, but there is not a foot masseur in sight, damn it.

My country is operating at an enormous trade deficit given that natural resources are somewhat scarce; the only thing I don't have to import is raspberries. However, I have just appointed myself the Minister of Trade and am considering the export of something involving raccoon pelts (or any other raccoon byproducts).

It is 3 a.m., and I am inordinately amused by the notion of myself as the queen of my somewhat dilapidated house -- but never mind. I am prone to inordinacy, I suppose, at pretty much any time of the day. I am just barely able to restrain myself from changing out of my Curious George pajamas and into a Very Fancy Dress.

I am not, as a general rule, awake at 3 a.m., but there was a goddamn raccoon brawl in my back yard just moments ago. Do you know what angry raccoons sound like? Really, it's pretty icky, as noises go.