I had a rather overzealous goal this weekend of painting the front hallway, and even though I knew it was a rather overzealous goal, I kept it on my to-do list anyway, just in case. "You're not going to do it," said Sean, and I said "I might! You never know!" and then I went to two different hardware stores to get paint samples in various shades of dark red.

And......yeah. That was as far as I got, incidentally, with the painting of the front hallway. Whoops. Better luck next time! Play again soon!

I first saw these Obama foam fingers on Sweetney's site, in a post where her little girl was wearing one. I left a comment professing their awesomeness, and a few days later, the guy who makes them emailed me. "Long story short," he wrote, "I make those things. How they got to her, I have no idea, but I almost fell out of my chair with excitement."  

Do you know what one of the most lovely feelings in the world is?

The funniest thing about the day is that it starts out badly. Having finally mastered the stovetop espresso pot in our tiny kitchen, I pour inky liquid into two tiny cups and hold them up proudly for Sean. On my first sip, I realize I've mistaken the salt for the sugar. There are two ways to realize that you've mistaken the salt for the sugar and this way is the worst one. As I'm spitting the briny mouthful back into the sink, the toast pops up, black and smoldering. Just like that, our first breakfast in Rome is ruined.

**************************

First of all, thank you all so much for the hundreds of wonderful comments and emails regarding our Big News: it was really so touching to hear so many lovely things from people we've never met but feel sure we would totally have a blast hanging out with were you to ever come over with a six-pack on a Saturday night. Also, I'm really sorry I seem to have made so many people cry. I hope you were all wearing waterproof mascara, at least. Particularly the boys.

I think it is fairly obvious that Sean is the one who takes the better holiday snaps in this relationship. That's why I'm marrying him, of course: to escape from a lifetime of photos that are not only blurry but where I also accidentally put my finger over the lens. 

I have to drive to Monterey this evening---a journey of around two hours---and I woke up this morning thinking "I have to drive to Monterey this evening" like other people think "I'm getting a double root canal this evening. With no anaesthetic. Performed by Dick Cheney in a gorilla mask. With Paris Hilton as the dental technician."

You will be pleased to know that we made it to and from Monterey this weekend without incident. Well, if "without incident" means that I only drove down a one-way street the wrong way once. And also maybe kind of drove into a dead-end while getting on the freeway in the dark. Apart from those two little mistakes---quickly and easily corrected, both of them---my time behind the wheel was not as bad as I had thought it would be. Turns out driving a car is pretty much like riding a bike: you just remember how to do it, and after that, instinct kicks in.