Only one of you to read this happy Sunday morning--afternoon for the rest of you out there in reality. As it is morning for me I feel I should make coffee and toast; it is still morning for me because the cold has returned with a purpose so perhaps only toast then. However, even if I contracted some allergy to coffee I'd be hard pressed (or french pressed. ha ha) to cut it out of my day.
This just in: While making coffee, I discovered it is Saturday, not Sunday. Now I am more understanding of the lack of red names on my diaryland friends list, HOWEVER I am sick and stuck in bed or on couch and an attempt to keep reading Orlando might not take so well on a sickhead, so please. Give me things to read. Tell me your tales. This plea is almost useless as very few people read this, but I make it nonetheless.

I pulled out a few movies last night. The Holy Mountain, Titus, The Hours. I couldn't reach Lost In Translation. Maybe I'll have someone get that down and watch it today. I've only really seen it once, ages ago; then again I put it on and it ended up white noise, I was looking for something faster, always searching for something faster. So maybe I'll watch it today, settled on the couch, once I've filled my cup with coffee.

I listened to the enhanced version of the last line; I cheated. But that was a long time ago and I've purposely forgotten it since.

I was going to write about The Hours and why I maybe shouldn't be reading Virginia Woolf and other assorted women, but now Lost In Translation is on the television, so I will watch that and maybe write later.