I think I have alcohol poisoning--the long, slow kind. I can't believe how much some of my friends drink when they're in camp. I was at my friend Linda's the other night for dinner and Erdvilas made me a drink that was a mixture of about 5 different kinds of liquor (he likes to make up drinks, plays a keen bartender). It went down too easily and I asked for half another one: he doesn't know how to make half a drink and I drank the second one he gave me. He also doesn't believe in putting more than 2 ice cubes in a drink (more ice would dilute them). He wanted me to keep him company in the kitchen while he was mixing drinks for everyone else, then he wanted me to sample the "exquisite vodka" that our freind Joe just brought back from Russia. Well, it was good vodka, but really. Then he wanted to mix me a drink of 2 kinds of raspberry liquer, layered, to show me that both of them were better than Chambord (which is "trash"). Then we had an "excellent" wine with dinner. I could still walk and talk, and I wasn't as drunk as I was on Marguerita Night at Sonci, but I sure felt lousy when I woke at 4:30 yesterday morning. I took some pills, a short nap and was ready for work when I got here at 7:30. I was even marginally productive.

Today I still feel slightly poisoned. Yesterday I had to stop at Ken's, at his request, for a touch of the creature, even though we weren't having dinner together. We miss each other these days, there are so many summer people around issuing dinner invitations that we don't honor our regular schedule. So we had a nip of brandy together. Just a nip, I said. And a quick visit. Long enough to cheer about the new vice president. I haven't been this excited about American politics in a long time. I really like Edwards (well, heck, he's so CUTE!) and hope this will be the ticket (yeah, that's the ticket). Now D'Amato is saying that Bush needs to drop Cheney and go with either Powell or McCain if he wants to win the election. Fortunately I don't think Bush has enough sense to realize he's right--besides, I don't think he can sit on either of their laps with their hands up his back, moving his lips the way he can with Cheney.

I bought new hooks for my screen door last night, the kind that are "safety" hooks (apparently I'm practicing using the "quotation" marks today), they latch shut around the hook part when you close them. This is intended to keep Tess from nudging the hook up and out of the eye, thus opening the screen door and running out. Proudly drilled holes and installed one on the inside and one on the outside of the rotten old door I have. Yes, they work well, but this morning when brushing my teeth I neglected to latch the door so all three dogs didn't even have to bolt out the door, they just sauntered out. I was late for work. Got in the car, pulled out of the driveway to look for them, saw Tess and Chances galloping towards the driveway from the bog, talking to each other as they ran. God they are endearing, the two of them together. Jackson, well he never appeared so he's spending the day outside. Supposed to have thunderstorms today so I hope he realizes he can get under the deck and out of the rain. Somehow I think that's beyond his realm of understanding but I can't do anything about it now, 40 minutes and 30 miles away. If dogs could really understand the connection between actions and consequences, my would would be a simpler one.

Tonight is Erdvilas' 59th birthday celebration. I said I'd go out with them (Linda has 4 friends staying in her upper camp) but am now having second thoughts. They're going to Tail O'The Pup in Lake Placid--it's a barbecue joint that has lobsters and clams, so that E can have a lobster. Or two, knowing him. These celebrations always end up costing me whole lot of money for a little bit of food. I always forget that these people are from Michigan, where they don't have fresh seafood--I think the Adirondacks are a queer place to eat seafood, but then they remind me that the Midwest is a queerer place to try to.

Tomorrow I'm NOT coming to work. I'm going to the Lake Placid Horse Show with a friend of Linda's and mine, visiting from Ohio. I haven't been to this horse show in several years and I love love love going. The horses are just beautiful. I walk around going "god that one's beautiful, no that one's more beautiful, oh no that one's gorgeous." Then we watch some jumping, and lots of practicing in the paddocks, then wander through the barns and I look at lots of the dogs they all bring with them. It's really a day meant designed for me. Anyway Mary Kay is interested in the horses because she's lucky enough to be able to retire from being a guidance counselor in a year and is hoping to get a horse. She loves dogs, too, so we'll have a good time I'm sure. It might rain but we'll do just fine. I used to go with Cam's daughters and we'd have a great time.

And now I must face the chores of the day. There is a space of less than one square foot of my desk exposed and a book order that needs to be completed. Some bills to be paid and more fiction to be weeded (I'm in the Ro's--YEA ME! the end of the alphabet is in sight). This afternoon I have to go to the annual meeting of the Willsboro library with my director. My grievance against her is proceeding at last; it's always an interesting exercise to get on with day-to-day relationships as if nothing were going on legally.

The sun is shining at the moment and the world is not a bad place in my attractive sector of it.