Finally a moment to sit and collect my thoughts. For the past 4 days I've been laid up with some sort of virus/cold/bug, whatever it chooses to be called.It certainly knocked me for a loop. My company left and methinks some germs stayed on for a few extra days. No, poor things (Ainsley andSascha), they both feel horrible about my condition, and I genuinely doubt my condition has anything to do with their esconcement here. I'll be taking tomorrow off as well, at the headmistreess's direction, to ensure my absolute recovery. I'm fine with that; the day is supposed to be beautiful and I really need to get out to replenish everything.

From Friday evening to Monday afternoon I barely left my bed. A couple of friends came by but they're a blur. I do know that a half finished bottle of wine was left empty on the counter. Oh well.

Funny thing, though  several colleagues called to see how I 'm doing, one who called repeatedly was this French & German teacher who(m) I have little or nothing to do with professionally, and only see occasionally. He must have called 5 or 6 times, and I have to say he seems sweet. Almost makes me wonder what it would be like to go out with him. Lord, I've not been with a man since high school. He even offered to pick up a few staples at the market, but I declined the offer, mainly because I didn't want to think about what I needed. Then he wanted to meet after school hours tomorrow, for tea.  He's cute, single, a year younger than me (that doesn't make me a cougar, does it?) and lives in the Village. Let me think about it!

It was a most delightful weekend with my visitors. Ainsley, my Canadian friend, and Sasha, who fell in love with my newly acquired air-matteress, got along famously and the three of us thorouly enjoyed everything we did. Friday night was a stay-at-home and we just caught up and listened to Sasha serenade us on her flute. She is so good she could easily perform at Lincoln Center. No, really, she is good. She played some Scottish Highland melodies which were tear-stirring. And she's Russian -- go figure.

Saturday we walked, all 40 some blocks, up to the Hungarian Bakery, on Amsterdam, for a calorie-laden breakfast, but shied away from reversing the trek and hoofed it over to the subway on Broadway, after a quick foray across the Columbia campus. Heading downtown we decided to go all the way and ride the Staten Island Ferry. Hey, I'm still a tourist! It was such a glorious day. Not much in St. George but we had some tea and then steamed back to Manhattan, and headed up to the Village. We bought some sandwiches and fruit and had a picnic in Washington Square and then headed back up to my flat for a nap. Had to rest up for a friend's celebratory party later, for having an article published in Vanity Fair. His first. We were exhausted!

The party was nice -- on the Upper East Side and quite posh I might add. Luckily we all three dressed appropriately. Even wore stockings. Ha! I cajoled Sasha into bringing her flute becasue the hostess is a rather accomplished pianist and I thought another girl might be there who has a voice to die for. I was right, and the evening evolved into a soiree of sorts that was enjoyed by all. We stumbled into our beds at close to 4 and didn't see daylight until noon. A great evening!

Sunday was spent in the park with the Times, and a blanket in the sun. What a day. Can you believe we wore shorts? Hey, you gotta go for it. After an early dinner at a sidewalk cafe on Columbus it was back home and early to bed. I don't know why those two turned in early; it was I who had to get up for work this morning. Neither Ainsley nor Sasha showed any sign of hearing me moving about in the still-dark hour before dawn nor in my leaving. I had to get in early to do some work I'd have normally done over the weekend. They're both staying on for a part of the week so I guess there'll be a couple of more early morning catch ups.

Now for the walk home, before darkness falls across Central Park. Damn, it's dark out already -- maybe I'll prevail upon school policy and take a cab, on them.

Will this weather ever settle down and be what it is supposed to be? We're wearing boots and scarves in the morning and coming home in sweaters. Oh, well. 

I am so glad the election is over. I have never been so nauseated at the amount of drivel coming at me from every direction. And mostly nasty drivel at that. I read somewhere that politicians are like diapers: They must be regularly changed and for the same reason. I can't vote anyway, but may soon become a citizen. Speaking of that, I understand the test is given in English so those who pass it should be able to read and \understand English -- correct? So why are instructions at polling locations written in Spanish? Just wondering.

There's another couch surfer crashing at my flat this week. A girlhood friend from Canada who just blew in from New Zealand to interview for a job. It's not that it's such a great job but rather it's because she wanted to come back north (not a clue) and thought she'd try the USA before Canada. It will be crowded this weekend because another friend is to stay with me for a few days. Think I'll have to buy an air mattress.

Over the Christmas holiday I'll be in London as the guest of an old friend I met in Israel years ago. We worked on a kibbutz and have kept in touch sporadically over time. I hope to get out of the city for a bit to see some of the countrysid while there. She has family in Devon that we can stay with. Her partner is Christian so we two Jewish girls will be celebrating with her as she has celebrated many of our holidays. Not that either of us is observant. It works rather nicely though.

And my final class of the day is about so begin but I must make a pit stop beforehand. More later . . .

It appears that for whatever reason the second half of my previous post was omitted. I've nary a clue, but I imagine I was simply kvetching about something or other. I do know there was scant vulgarity in it. Oh, yes, I do recall mentioning something about being offered a faculty position at my Alma Mater, right here in NYC. The rest is a blur . . . You haven't missed much.

Later.

Oops, dummy me. The original, in its entirerty was published properly. The part that was reprinted, the initial section, appeared for God knows what reason sans the rest.

Anyway... 

Another parent stood me up today. I mean, come on, you're paying 30K plus to send your child to this posh private school and you should be interested in what he's doing there. And when you, the parent, request the sit-down with a teacher, at a time you specified, it stands to reason that you, the parent, would be there. But no-- too busy. "Can we do this via text messages?" Can you believe it? Text messages? Of course my answer was "No", and it was left that we'd g