I've got nothing

of interest to write about, to show you, to rant on, etc. It's a gray and cold day in Los Angeles. That's right. It's gray and cold. I woke up this morning and it was raining. Rain in July in the southwest is as likely as high surf in Buffalo in December. I waited patiently for the doctor to call to confirm Sophie's infusion time, and that call never came. I had a meeting with someone who is helping us to refinance our house and perhaps jerk our lives into more solvency. I relented and called the doctor myself and found out that Sophie's infusion is happening next week. We think. I've done several loads of laundry and let the boys play endlessly on the computer and watch television. I've read a few magazines and eaten some leftovers. I thought some more about the movie I am Love that I saw a couple of weeks ago and that still resonates with me. How easy it is to subsume one's identity into one's children and family and how alluring to run away from it all. I also thought a bit more about To Kill a Mockingbird, the movie, that I watched last night with the boys. It was amazing, still. It was weird hearing the word nigger so many times, and I had to stop the movie and explain things to the boys. They were rapt and disbelieving. Inevitable to think about: Jim Crow laws and President Obama, both in my lifetime. And weird, too, that we haven't had a woman president, yet, and there's not one in sight.