It does not, as advertised, taste like cheesecake. It doesn't taste like strawberries, either. I'm not sure what, exactly, it does taste like, but I can tell you that it's not pleasant.

I went to a different grocery store, but they also had only the non-fat version, so I am forced to suspect that Danone has ceased to make the full fat, but infinitely more delicious, version. Hey, Danone! Bring back the good stuff! Or at least persuade the grocery stores of Portugal to start stocking that yummy rhubarb bio-yogurt if, indeed, you still make it. I haven't had any since we lived in Germany, and I miss it.

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Yesterday, I got my hair cut. This is big news, since I haven't done so since the very beginning of September, and I've been meaning to have it done since November. I keep forgetting to make an appointment, though, so I just kept trimming my bangs, at which point I wouldn't think about getting it cut properly for another few weeks, and so on. Finally, though, it got way out of control. It was windy and rainy on Sunday night, so I didn't bother to straighten it, and just let it go all curly.

I had porn star hair. I kid you not. BIG hair, very 80s and oh so wrong.

So on Tuesday (because they're closed on Monday), I got off my ass and made that call. He did a good job, and now the back is the same length as the front, which is nice, even if it still is shorter than I would like it. I figure another three months or so, and I can go back to getting my hair trimmed on a regular basis, just like a normal person.

(Just as I was typing the above paragraph, Brenda texted me, asking for their number because she needs a haircut and, also, a good stylist. Weird.)

Then, since I was half-way there and needed to call a taxi anyway, I went to the mall. The sales in Portugal don't start on the day after Christmas, or even New Year's. They started over a week ago, and I hadn't been shopping yet, so off I went. And. . .

Nothing called to me. Or even spoke to me. Or even gave me a half-hearted, limp-wristed, listless little wave. It was all too depressing, really, wanting to shop and being stymied by a complete lack of interesting merchandise. Not that there's anything I really need, but you never know, right?

So I went to the perfumeria and bought some stuff I needed (not on sale), and I went to HnM and bought some bras and matching panties (not on sale, but inexpensive), which I sort of needed. The stuff there is cute, but not of the highest quality, so the elastic goes and so forth after a fairly short time. On the other hand, it's going to be months before I'm able to get to a Victoria's S*ecret (my bra emporium of choice), and HnM actually sell stuff that's in my size, which, let's face it, the nicer, more specialized lingerie stores around here do not do. Plus, as I said, it's cheap, so who cares if it falls apart in a couple of months? I'll probably be sick of it by then, anyway, especially since I don't follow my "Practical, Sensible, Invisible Rule" that applies to my purchases at VS. The PSI Rule is a good one, and I'll never foresake my VS bras entirely, but the ones I have are two years old, on the verge of death and, let's face it, a bit boring. (Of course, when worn under any item of clothing I own, they look sensational.) But enough of that.

I did buy a simple, beautifully cut, black v-neck sweater, wool blend, suitable for wear both with and without a shirt underneath, at Massimo Dutti, which is a very nice store. It was a steal for 24.50, and it enabled me to free up space in my wardrobe by getting rid of three other black sweaters that I never wear because they're (1) old, baggy and shapeless, (2) the turtleneck is too tight, making me look like a bullfrog, (3) afflicted with holes, (4) too fuzzy, tormenting me with lint under my contact lenses, (5) generally nasty, or (6) some combination of the above. A fourth one will probably follow, and good riddance. They've been languishing there for far too long because I am a packrat and, therefore, genetically unable to get rid of an (almost) perfectly good sweater, even if I never wear it. This is true even if, for example, I bought it for three dollars at a street market in Istanbul. I've made a lot of progress in that regard over the last few months, but I still have quite a ways to go.

Anyhoo . . . that sweater was an undisputed bargain. I only found it because, after realizing that there was absolutely nothing that I wanted to buy for myself in the stores, I moved on to shopping for Elvis.

Shopping for Elvis was a different story, and he made out like a bandit. There was plenty of nice men's stuff on sale, and I got him several rugby shirts, a nifty knit long-sleeved polo shirt, and a nice fleece so he can be all toasty warm in the chronic wind and dampness.

Except, the fleece apparently arrived too late. Yesterday, he woke up complaining about his sinuses. (My response: Welcome to the club.) A friend of ours is leaving for a couple of months, so of course we had to go to the pub last night to give him a proper sending off. Elvis stayed for only an hour, leaving at half past nine because he was tired and not feeling too well. I stayed on for a while, and when I got home at 11:30 he was in bed, suffering from chills and a high fever. Poor guy. He didn't get much sleep at all, although the fever broke early this morning. He didn't go to work today, and he's feeling quite a bit better now. He started running a low fever a few hours ago, but it seems to be gone now. Hopefully, he'll feel better tomorrow.

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I started this post this morning, had to go do something or other, and never got back to it until just a short while ago. Actually, I'm wondering just where the hell the day HAS gone. I seem to have gotten next to nothing accomplished, and for no apparent reason, and now it's 8:30 and WTF?

I'll go ahead and post this now, before I look around and discover that it's already tomorrow.