 Magic Abroad |
|
Strawberry sno-cones. Sunburned cheeks and shoulders. A sheet on the grass. Jambalaya. Happy folks all around, little kids laughing, people dancing, music playing. Deadwood. Giggling over Dan's tendency to mutter and Calamity Jane's tendency to be awesome. Swinging a towel around in the backyard and watching a dog jump three feet in the air for the chance to get a mouthful of said towel. Weird homemade breakfast burritos for dinner made with scrambled eggs and cheese, green onions, bacon, and raspberry chipotle sauce. Drinking beer and watching a hot guy rock out in a bar at two in the morning. Mocha gelato out of the carton. Resisting reading spoilers to find out who killed Lilly Kane. Being horrified that someone's trying to get the Anastasia books banned. Cleaning up piles of cat barf. Filing piles of paperwork. Listening to 1200 Curfews for the first time in forever and having it bring back memories, like seeing them for the first time at Jazz Fest twelve years ago. Thinking about how my sister and I used to sing the last part of Love Will Come to You. Deciding that Girlfriends is a good show. Having what might have been the beginning of a panic attack while driving on the interstate due to a large brown spider across from my face inside the windshield and having to pull off and exit the car in a Ruby Tuesday's parking lot to calm down. Going to the gym four whole times in one week. Attempting downward facing dog on my living room floor and having Zuko crawl on his belly as if I were a drawbridge and writhing around and reaching up to lick my face. Listening to "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square," my first favorite Harry Connick, Jr. song. Remembering when I saw Frank Sinatra on television at age fifteen and announcing to my dad that he sounded just like Harry Connick, Jr., which mystifyingly continues to amuse my dad to no end. Planting flower boxes with my mom. Waking up in the middle of the night after dreaming that someone was breaking into my house and that I was having a secret affair with Anwar and being so upset that only my little brother's giggles on the other end of the phone line could snap me out of it. Poring over papers of my grandmother's written on brittle, yellowing paper about Dryden and Milton and Chaucer. Waiting for a new digital camera to arrive. Waiting for my sister and her boyfriend to arrive. Disbelieving that tomorrow is the first day of May. Listening to the soundtrack of Stealing Home and thinking of my older brother. Watching in thanksgiving as the daylilies choose this very rainy day to open in bright yellow blossoms and thinking of how once these same plants were once growing in my grandmother's yard. Remembering while at the gym how my grandfather went there every day to walk on the treadmill and socialize and thinking that if my eighty-year-old gramps could work out regularly than surely so can I. Reading a neuropsychoanalysis report done on my grandfather when he was eighty-one that showed that while he was losing his memory, he was still spunky. Deciding that I kind of hate Oprah now. Wearing a sweater because it's strangely cold outside. Having coffee with a friend and watching her baby walk a few wobbly steps wearing only a t-shirt, diaper, and pair of socks with a big grin on her face and deciding that sometimes the world is not such an ugly place.
About this time in ...
© Copyright 2005 elb |
|
