April 23, 2000
Another Non-Holiday


One of my neighbors has been hard-boiling eggs all weekend.

The smell is seeping through the apartment walls, even with all the doors and windows shut ... that overly-warm, vaguely sulfurus smell that always makes me think of glazed ham, uncomfortable new Red Goose shoes and Easter egg hunts at Grandma's house..

Even as I write this, they're having a big noisy egg hunt in the courtyard of our apartment complex outside. Every few minutes another small Asian-American child peers through the window at me, as I sit here typing ... obviously wondering whether I'm hiding a chocolate bunny or two. The first couple of times, I smiled and shook my head, as if to say "Nope! No Easter eggs in here!"

Eventually I just pulled the curtains shut.

I'm not hugely fond of Easter, as you can probably tell. In recent years it's become something of a *non-holiday* ... probably some time shortly after the Tots outgrew plastic Easter grass and Peter Cottontail colorbooks.

Mostly it's just another Sunday, as far as I'm concerned.

I'm spending the day quietly and happily alone. David is off helping his #2 brother move, from Walnut Creek north to Davis. He left at 9 a.m. this morning, and he won't be back until late in the afternoon. I've been enjoying my once-weekly *Day of Beauty.* (Read this: hot oil in my hair, pimple cream dotted all over my naked face, pink stuff smeared all over my feet, and a hideous pair of flowered leggings topped with an old Pac Bell T-shirt.)  I've got a stack of "new" previously-owned CD's, purchased at Amoeba Records in Berkeley yesterday afternoon ... a box of Triscuits and a hunk of Asiago cheese ... a big pot of Guarana Chai tea, simmering on the back burner of the Pink Stove ... and a whole long lovely afternoon to myself.


Now if only I could get over this bizarre craving for one of Daughter #2's World Famous Devilled Eggs.

throw a rock