Ahem.
 
I've got nothing to say but it's okay. 
 
The shadow I'd hired for Prima crapped out on us without notice.  Her name is Nicole Styles.  (And yes, that really is her name.  I have to work on that forgiveness thing.)  Fortunately, I was able to find someone in like two days because I went nuts calling everyone I knew.  Things seem to be working out very nicely: the other kids also gravitate to NuShadow, which gives Prima some reflected coolness.  (Secundo liked her too, which I decided was a good sign, along the "children and dogs really know" lines.)
 
Though I really hate the way "cool" has gotten bastardized in popular discourse.  This is an old meme/hobbyhorse of mine, and I don't need to ride it yet again.  And I don't want to do my OCD loop on cool/conventional/acceptance/autism.  Not today, anyway.
 
Maybe I can free-associate with medication names.  I take Concerta, which is a beautiful word.  Sometimes when I'm driving around I say it with an Italian pronunciation: Con-CHERRR-ta.
 
I'll spare y'all (y'all: that's a good one.  My many, many, many and diverse readers) my trite thoughts on attending services in the night and morning: a Joan Didionesquely touristy meditation.  Let's hear every about little perception that flutters through my brain!  Let's look at something for five seconds and assume we've somehow gotten to the elemental core of rituals that have existed, whether I noticed them or not, for millennia!  But I am like a Steinway piano: ritual will resonate within me, producing something unique.  I am size 14, I contain multitudes....