Cosmopolitans seem to have been a bad idea this weekend, weren�t they? Was that how it started? Is it that simple? I haven�t been so badly off for a very long time, and I�ve never seen such consequences. If I could remember much of anything, I�d have a feeling of what it�s like to be someone else.

I put it up to the strange powers of certain objects, specifically the bracelet from Kate, which is admittedly a fabulous, shocking sort of thing. It made me feel bold.

Apology for cheating. That�s the key phrase that led some poor soul to flashingreds. Let�s hope none of that needs to be done. I apologized to the cat. And to the friends I worried.

Then there was a bit of snow Saturday and Sunday. Freezing rain, ice. Confessions and a wee visit to the doctor. Sleeping, shopping with friends and charred veggie dogs with cold red wine, baked barbecue-flavored chips and bad tv shows on USA. Afterward, we caught J on the local news, sporting his bright red hardhat with his name emblazoned on the front, dangling off a timber frame, pounding pegs of the house he�s putting up at work. They made mention of his experience on the trapeze coming in handy, of course. Who could resist?

Oh. Oh, yes, that�s it. Indeed.