 Settling In |
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So I guess it's about time to get back into real time entries. I've been home for two weeks tomorrow, and I have to say that I'm still not sure I'm walking and talking like a normal person yet. I'm certainly not sleeping normally, but that's no big surprise. I feel like I feel and look more tired than I have in a while. I think I need a vacation from my vacation! It's been a pretty blurry two weeks. We got home. There was laundry and lawn care to tend to. There were dogs to calm down and cats to peel off my face. There was strangely unsweltering weather for an extended period during which I actually hung out in my house with the air conditioner turned off and the windows open and I didn't really know what to make of that. There was somewhat of a hysterical sobbing episode at a dinner table full of family members and guests, resulting in mortification from which I still don't think I have fully recovered. There have been margaritas and wine tasting in bars, strangely addictive party games (even though I usually hate games), and movies. Like Napoleon Dynamite, which made me laugh myself silly, and Garden State, which made me laugh and cry and feel and think and with whose fantastic website I am now wholly obsessed. (Seriously. If you're bored at work, you can kill many minutes if not hours on this website.) My little brother and I raced to the movie theater at the last minute to see it on a hot Saturday afternoon and ate Butterfinger bites and popcorn and drank frozen Cokes, and when we walked through the parking lot after the movie to our illegal parking spot in the Mexican restaurant next-door, it was one of those "When I stepped out into the bright sunlight from the darkness of the movie house, I had only two things on my mind: Paul Newman and a ride home" moments, except instead of Paul Newman and a ride home, all I had on my mind was, "Wow." Except it really wasn't so much on my mind as in my heart. Garden State had the best group of trailers I've ever seen before a single movie. The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou, Closer, Sideways, and I Heart Huckabees, which was my personal favorite. The one for Closer rubbed me the wrong way because I don't like seeing Jude Law make out with anyone when there seems to be zilch chemistry which frankly I've never seen happen with the exception in this case of Julia Roberts. My viberna, crepe myrtles, and lemon tree are so infested with white flies that I actually had a nightmare about them last night. I come in from being outside and there are white flies in my hair and up my nose. I spent three hours spraying them on Sunday, and even though I think some of them died because I can see their carcasses on the underside of the leaves, they are still swarming and I cannot believe I am going to have to spend another set of hours after work this week mixing the concentrate, pumping the sprayer, and breaking my back spraying again before I leave. Yard work can be really good for a person and really fulfilling at times, but some parts are just a bitch. I cannot believe I am allowing myself to get so depressed about white flies, but I am. My crepe myrtles look ugly. The leaves are either brown and dying or black. There are thousands of them. THOUSANDS! The fight feels so futile! The air is thick with them. It is disgusting. HATE. I'm going to see my sister in two days. We're going to see Avenue Q. I can't wait to see it and see her and where she's living! We're going to organize her apartment and hopefully reflect on all of the reasons it does not suck to be us. About this time in ...
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