Saturday, November 24, 2007

just like heaven would be, only more parenthesis and more Capital Letters

It's fucking great here, y'all. Except for the antarctic temperatures, I mean. So great. I might not come home. I am sure the cats can follow my scent up 95 and find me here on the Boston kids' couch (where I've been for the past 12 hours, minus getting up for blueberry pancakes).

In those 12 hours, I've slept; had crazy dreams, including one that foretells the outcome of the coming election (looks bad, y'all, real bad); finished Cavedweller (how the fuck did I forget about Dorothy Allison?); lounged and lounged some more. Now I'm here with the Boston Boy, reading and writing on the couch, aka my bed, while the Boston Girl showers. She says she'll take me to the waterfront and, no, that is not a euphemism, but it should be. The DC girls, R and J, left us for some Alone Time with Somebody Else. (I see your Alone Time, Somebody Else and I raise you 12 hours in the car with R and J tomorrow! I'm the winner!) There was much weeping and gnashing of teeth at their departure. We heart them. We do. I speak for All of Us.

While in the Frozen North here I have:
  1. taken public transportation, my bbf
  2. talked about anything and everything with folks who are very smart
  3. saw J make the funniest face *ever* (EVER) when a squirrel ate out of her hand
  4. laughed a bunch over stupid shit
  5. eaten Indian food
  6. formed Teh Wonder Triplets with Boston Girl and R
  7. had my back scratched twice
  8. lounged
  9. thought about ttc in ways that were not obsessive, nor were they stressful (yay)
  10. watched one bad movie and part of a good movie
  11. read a very, very good book (see above)
  12. lounged again
  13. saw fabulous and amazing works in progress and was so proud and impressed to see my friend doing work she loves
  14. lounged more
Vacations like this feel like stolen time. Like I'm getting something for nothing. As if I'm existing for a moment in a world that doesn't quite exist.

Serious, y'all. I might not come home. Send some clean socks, underpants and warmer weather with the cats.

3 comments:

Anonymous said...

You are too coming home, little missy. Don't even think about leaving us.
Also, here the air is crisp and you can smell all the lovely fires in fireplaces wafting out the chimneys. The other day the air was crispy and the light was crispy and the sky was beautiful with golden late afternoon light and all the leaves were blowing around in the air like fairies. Maybe like birds, tiny birds. All the big birds are sitting together in gangs high up in twisted naked tree branches looking like they are in charge.
So there. See you soon!

Anonymous said...

you wear underwear?

Anonymous said...

Yeah Cho-girl, that's what I say. I was all "clean what"?