I Didn't Know There Was A Basingstoke in Westphalia

Spending all of the morning dealing with bank and mortgage people.  Sweet lord is it difficult.  We're refinancing our house.  We have perfect credit, we have savings, we earn money--and still.  They cavil and harass.  The bank wants records and proof of everything.  The amount of documentation we've been asked to provide--at this point I'm not going to be surprised if my middle school report cards have to get faxed somewhere.  It's exhausting and aggravating but the banks have all the power; there are so many people right now trying to do refinances they can demand to see into every detail of your financial life.  And you have to take it.  It fills me with rage.

Other than that, not too much afoot.  We're planning where to eat in New York City, in November.  Also, what shows to see?  So far our only decision: Anything Goes.  Cole Porter + PG Wodehouse.  What could be better than that?  Also, the subject of a great, great Monty Python skit. (Starting above at the two minute mark)  The dining options are, of course, insane.  We've decided to leave Per Se for another time (a nine course four-hour tasting menu is more than we're ready for).  I'm not sure what else we'll do.  The Cloisters, I think, and maybe The Frick (where neither of us have been).  Why are we planning now?  It's fun to plan in advance--looking forward to things is a great source of human joy.  Maybe the greatest?  But before that can happen we have to get done with our mortgage people.  And that will not be among the greatest of human joys.  No, or even in the top ten....