||[Jun. 16th, 2006|08:23 pm]
The jasmine chose to explode this evening. Subtle hints of its fragrance have been in the air for days now, but when the day's heat had diminished and I opened my window moments ago, the scent was so powerful that I half expected to see the back yard filled with dancing houris attended by a passel of eunuchs.|
It must have been the heat which coaxed so much perfume from the flowers. I have the uncomfortable feeling that this was a transitional day between the mild weather and the onset of torrid days. I don't relish having to turn on the air conditioning. I don't even like having the noisy window fans blowing. I miss the mildness of spring already.
I woke with a vicious headache after a mere three hours of sleep once again today. I found my hair so irritating that I finally made good on my threat and hacked it off. It took about ten minutes (I have totally inappropriate scissors for such a task), and there will be stray hairs floating about in the bathroom for days, I'm sure, but I don't regret it. It looks pretty bad, but it feels great. Oddly, nobody else has noticed what I've done. The more indispensable I become, the more invisible I become. Very old people are surpassingly weird.
For fans of old movie palaces (there must be a few others around here), A&E's Sunday morning "Breakfast With the Arts" show this week will feature a segment with a tour of New York City's five "Wonder Theaters"; immense, ornate movie houses built by Loew's in the 1920's. I probably won't be awake to see it, so I guess I'd better see if I can get the VCR working.