Hapsburgs Kicking Out The Traces

[When you've run out of ways to procrastinate...blog! I'm sitting in my new room at Maison le Trou, looking at the many unpacked boxes stacked around me, and thinking about the Hapsburgs.]

[As you must know by now, "the Hapsburgs" is my shorthand phrase for the highbrow esoteric woolgathering that is my default mental state. It is immeasurably exacerbated by the internet. Especially by Wikipedia, but comments threads are right up there, too. Any resemblance to actual intellectual achievement is probably coincidental and always temporary. But if I'm thinking about the Hapsburgs, it probably means I'm happy.]

["The Hapsburgs" is also the sine qua non for my slow, sputtering, now-almost-completely-moribund search for a boyfriend. If he can give me three coherent sentences about the Hapsburgs (yes, I spell it with a "p," not a "b," because I'm old skool like that), he may proceed to Challenge #2. If not, we may shag a time or two, but he's not invited to Thanksgiving.]

[I've only had one real romance since establishing this rule a couple of years ago. Our breakup had nothing to do with the fact that he easily passed the Hapsburgs test, of course, so I still think it's valid. (I passed a similar test of his.) He, as I guess it's time to explain to my two readers who don't already know, is currently in the next room, and the room I'm currently failing to make habitable as I type away is the room I spent many nights in when we were going out.]

[Fraught with dangerous possibilities, you say? Maybe, but the exigencies have been foreseen (by me, Chris, and a small group of busybodies who no doubt only have our best interests at heart), and I think it's going to be fine. It's certainly already so much better than my previous absurd living situation in ways I can't even tell you. I can say that I've been stuck in a semi-comfortable, semi-horrific place a lot of the time the last nine months, a place more mental than actual, and that's now over. Sounds so absolute for me, doesn't it? Well, every once in a while, I'm actually good at kicking out the traces, and this feels like one of those times.]

[So, we'll see. Meanwhile, tonight's my twenty-year high school reunion up in Sonoma. I'm spending the night chez les parents, and then coming back tomorrow early enough to feed, walk and pet the Ridiculously Large Mastiff one more time before Boss-Man comes home. After that, I go see my sister's/bro-in-law/Niece Audrey's new house in Alameda and celebrate my Dad's 65th birthday. After that, I come home to Maison le Trou, at which time I'll need a place to lay my weary, well-traveled head.]

[Off I go to make one...]

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