Tomorrow is M.s.'s big opening! I'm looking forward to wearing the HAT. We're battling over deadlines for finding a loan, I'm hoping everything works out. It's really stressful, dealing with aggressive salepeople, brokers, lenders, etc. We'll see. I'm staying optimistic despite the little stresses that reveal themselves along the way.

Speaking of little stresses: more family has come to stay at the house in the Vineyard. A cousin, his wife, and three kids. All of them are darling, wonderful, intelligent, funny, EXCEPT... I call her Darla, from Finding Nemo. She SCREAMS ALL THE TIME. ALL the TIME. She's screaming right now, outside, as I type this upstairs. I want to stick a washcloth in her mouth, but I know that's just not appropriate. She seems uncontrollable, and she's only 4. I have to deal with this little monster for a few more days.

There is an upside, though. She doesn't know how to read me, so when she's running around, screaming, and happens to glance in my direction, my steady, disapproving gaze has never failed to shut her up for a few minutes. She won't stop torturing the 15-year-old dog of the house. She walked toward him last night, when her parents weren't watching (after she'd been told by everyone to stay away from the poor old pup), and I caught her attention with my slowly wagging index finger.

When she looked at me, I said, "What do you think you're doing there? You weren't going to bother old Murdy, were you?" She stared back. I raised my brows, "Hmmm?" And she retreated. All I've heard (aside from the screaming) for the last two days is, "Katrina, no! Katrina... Katrina... Katrina, no!" It's like some sick kind of mantra, and it has absolutely no effect.

Sometimes, I really hate kids. In their favor, though, the other two are such a joy to be around. Quiet, nice, smart kids, one 10-years-old, the other 13-years-old. I could kick it with them. I could watch movies and play games with them, and I wouldn't mind them tagging along for the duration of my trip, they're so peaceful and complacent.

It's that little one that fucks everything up. She's got to go.

-Barbarella

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