I am not really in Ohio in service of Her Royal Highness, Goblin Foo Uvula, Empress of the Upper West Side and France. (HRH Goblin has noted that it was the habit of certain historical English and Scottish rulers to proclaim themselves simultaneously the monarch of France, and she wants to get in on the act.) I am actually here to visit Rob as he finishes writing and continues to rehearse his latest piece of musical theater, Wild Blue.

The other night, after rehearsal, we came home and watched a nature program on television and saw the cutest thing. A baby hippopotamus, swimming in a river with his mother, evoked very strongly the Empress of the Upper West Side and France. I call this web log "Upside-down Hippopotamus" because, when my little Boston terrier lies on her back, her lips vaguely resemble what my former roommate Tiffany envisioned hippopotamus lips might look like. The resemblance to the entire organism, as depicted by this program, is uncanny.

The newborn hippo swam happily to and fro. Awww, we said, imagining our little dog at play.

Then, unexpectedly, a fully grown hippo swam up and murdered it.

The baby screamed in agony as the ferocious adult ripped it to pieces. I began weeping hysterically, and Rob actually covered my eyes so I would not see one gruesome moment.

I am crying again now as I remember it.

You know, humans are not very difficult to figure out. I can usually size someone up instantly and accurately predict exactly which actions he or she will take in the future. (I try not to do this because it is unfair to interact with someone in the present based upon the idea of how they might behave in the future, but my ego prompts me to mention that I am almost never wrong.)

Hippopotami, on the other hand, are completely enigmatic.