Today, a few notable things happened.

Not chronologically:

I discovered that exciting myself, no matter how subtly, means, by default, exciting Eska. I received word from SubLit magazine today that my piece, "New Thrash," will be published in their upcoming December issue. The first thing I thought to do upon reception of such news was to jump up and down in my chair and to mute my (implied) screams while fanning myself in joy and disbelief. I tried to be quiet, because I had just crated Eska for the day, but she caught on anyway, and rejoiced with me -- by jumping up and down in her crate, tugging at her blankets and sheets, and howling for attention.

The next thing I thought to do was to tell my unofficial editor, faithful reader, and forever friend, Nina, who just happened to be on gchat at the time.

Perhaps of greater relevance to this blog, Eska and I met a man on our morning walk today who, Eska was quite sure, was escaped from an insane asylum. Tall. Husky. Bald, wearing a baseball cap (and sweat pants, and a windbreaker, to complete the set). Middle age, perhaps later. We heard him yelling at we weren't sure what from a few blocks away, and Eska remained fascinated for blocks after we passed him by. As we approached him (on the opposite side of the street) on Chestnut and 35th, both his laments and the reason for their expression became clearer: they were addressed to his lighter, which was seemingly failing to light his cigarette.

"Work! WORK, godDAMNit! WORK!"

and

"That's enough! That's ENOUGH, bitch!"

plus

"You better fucking WORK, you little asshole! That's eNOUGH!!!!!"

Eska looked on in actual wonder, and because she is easily frightened, jumped in the air a little when she quite unexpectedly heard him bellow out again, a few blocks up, rounding the corner of 38th.

I hope we meet him again. Il nous en faut de toutes les couleurs.