Gawd. Do I have to say it? Forgot my antihistamines, woke up after three hours. It's as though three hours is the exact amount of time for my lungs to fill up with phlegm once I lie on my back.

I really did think that the pollen was over, but what happened this morning was the fog and my windows being open. I suddenly remembered that this happened a few times while I was in LA, but since I went to bed earlier there (or rather, with the time difference, at exactly the same time) and going to bed at 1a and waking at 4a means that you don't give up and just get up for the day. So maybe I could get back to sleep, but an hour is the longest that I can try without getting really bored and turning on the TV.

The problem is that I can't stop coughing while I'm lying down and can't sleep while sitting up. If I could just prop myself on some pillows like some sort of pasha and sleep, that would be great, but the only way I can breathe is my sitting bolt upright, or better, leaning slightly forward. But contrary to popular belief, I am not the Elephant Man, and sleeping like that just isn't happening.

It all worked out nicely, because when I finally gave up and dragged myself out of bed and turned on the Today Show, I was just in time to see the totally hot Mo Rocca and two other people dish entertainment. It was like a few weeks ago when the same thing happened and I accidentally saw Christian Finnegan dishing Friends.

I mean, what would I prefer, sleeping or hearing Mo say about Madonna and her $300 concert tickets, "It's worth it, this is an incredible show, Madonna does it all here--she flies on trapeze, she straps herself into an electric chair, I mean, so Madonna is re-inventing herself here as a death-row inmate who apparently committed some sort of horrible, circus-related crime."?

It's worth missing a little sleep to have heard that.

Yesterday I managed to get some sun in the backyard, though I decided to concentrate on my back, which is apparently made of some substance impervious to the sun, since an hour did nothing. I'm going to have to make a concerted effort to tan my back, maybe using an atomic reactor or something, because I refuse to be only done on one side, like an egg.

I watched Wiseguy while I was out there, and a little more of Punch Drunk Love, which I had begun the day before, and by a little more I mean 10 minutes more. Unfortunately, I still couldn't stand it, so I finally dropped a note to my notify (what did I do without Google and my notify? I had to remember my life and make my own decisions, who needs that?) saying:

"Did anyone see Punch Drunk Love? Am I right to not want to finish the DVD? Does it get better? I'm about 40 minutes in and it's taken me two days because I can only watch about five minutes at a time before having to turn it off for two hours. I really love Paul Thomas Anderson; Magnolia is one of my favourite movies. Somebody tell me for certain whether it's worth struggling through or not."

Well, the overwhelming majority said don't finish it, save yourself. Several used the exact same words, "I kept waiting for it to get better and it didn't." The real swing was that the people who did like it liked it from the beginning, nobody who hated it from the start came round and liked it as it went on.

There was stuff in it that I liked very much, like Adam Sandler's performance and the harmonium, but I hated hated hated the sex phone blackmail plot, and whenever it started, I had to turn it off for several hours. I wrote to Nicky, a pro-Punch Drunker:

"I'm so obsessive-compulsive that it is very difficult for me to not finish a book or a movie or something just because I don't like it--I seem to be under the impression that not liking it isn't a good enough reason, when in fact it's the best reason. The one good thing is that I got it from the library, so I didn't have to pay even a dime to watch 1/3 of this movie that I hate.

"I'm watching About a Boy instead. I know About a Boy will make me happy and there will be no porny blackmail in it."

Today's horoscope:
The anger or irritation you're feeling will definitely not be a secret to anyone. If they're just someone you happen to be sitting next to on the subway, go easy.

One year ago today:
If you are a new reader, you may not understand the significance of this, because I never tell a man that I am in love with what I feel without their saying it first--my fear of rejection and abandonment is so extreme that I prefer to stay silent rather than risk any pain.

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Last Updated Thurs 8 July 13:31:09 2004