the Virgin Goddess
A small victory last night; ArchitectX thought Artemis and Diana were two different goddesses, I contended that these were different names for the same goddess. "Artemis and Demeter are the same," he insisted. So I made him look it up online, as his Bullfinch's is shamefully old and not as extensive as mine. And... I was right. This came up, of course, because we were talking about comic books yet again, and I was noting how strange it is that in Wonder Woman's current incarnation, Diana has a sister Amazon named Artemis.
This is the sort of thing we can amuse ourselves with endlessly. ArchitectX was the one who broke the news to me about the Fantastic Four's tough-guy Thing being Jewish (Benjamin Jacob Grim--who knew?) and explained the difference between the various kinds of kryptonite. He has an elaborate theory about the Kabbalistic significance of Superman's costume (you did know that Superman is sort of Jewish, right?) and sometimes I can barely keep up.
BUT, I knew that Diana and Artemis are the same. Very pleased about my small victory. Now, Demeter and Ceres are the same goddess. If Ceres sounds familiar, it may be because we get the word "cereal" from her name; she was the goddess of fertility and the harvest.
I also learned about Carna (yes, like carnal and carnation), the goddess responsible for fleshly health. And, for reasons that are still not clear to me, doorhinges. It seems that she gained the favor of two-faced Janus, who's the god of hallways and portals and so on. He liked her, so he let her have doorhinges.
It is incredibly cold here, although the sky has been very bright and shiny. Sunday afternoon, light on sleep and heavy on modeling cash, I spent an unprecedented amount of money on socks. I mean, I bought a pair of wool stockings (magically knit with cotton on the skin side) for more money than I usually spend on a pair of jeans. Oh, but I love them already. It's nice to be able to wear skirts in this weather. I also bought a pair of black-and-red-striped knee socks, because I'd been to an event Friday night that made me realize I am simply not dressing fabulously enough, and some multicolor socks I'm wearing now in anticipation of going to see Cirque du Soleil tonight.
Friday night's performance was just amazing. ArchitectX put on his tux and took me to Paul Nathan's Dark Kabaret. We saw a man put himself through a stringless tennis racket. And George Clinton showed up, beaming, benevolent, and incredibly funky for a man about a year younger than God. There was more to it, of course, but my fingers are too cold to encompass the whole wonderfulness of the evening.
Looking forward to a week with little or no work. Last week flattened me. Of course, I seem to be coming down with something--and one of my roomies has the flu, so I'm a tad concerned--but as long as I can read without having to get up to puke too often, I'm ready if that's what I'm in for.
My other (adult) roomie, the sushi chef, and I now have a little joke based on my limited grasp of Japanese. Yesterday, at, oh, two in the afternoon, I said ohayoo gozaimasu to him as he came into the kitchen. I corrected myself immediately, as I had just bid him good morning. "Or is it still ohayoo?" I asked, referencing the fact that we both work late and sleep late. "It's still ohayoo," he answered. This afternoon, I noticed when he came into the kitchen at two, he said ohayoo to me... this is so tiny, but I love it that we have this joke that nobody else in the house would ever get.