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Feels like I've spent the entire evening reading everyone's else's diary, and neglecting my own. Peculiar thing, this living others' thoughts vicariously. For the most part, encouraging to know that there are so many articulate folks out there... witty, inventive, unconventional. Like how you wish connections could be made in the here and now. Of course, it's a rare person who can look you in the eye and reveal themselves... they're usually best friends, or marriage partners. But, if you seem to be lacking in that department.... My first full day of staying at Elly's place... and it's excellent. Very sisterly. Left the light on for me in my room, bed made, covers turned down. It's like I moved in with my Grandmother. Actually weirds me out, a little. After a few years of chaos and reacting to living conditions on impulse, it's...more than acceptable. Though I'm not "at home" in Reston, it's not even like being in the planned community that it is--here, at least. She's got a very southwestern flavor to her living (spending summers in New Mexico will do that), kinda Georgia O'Keeffee-ish. Great balcony, up in the trees... like having morning coffee-and-a-butt with the news in a treehouse. And I slept overnight like a stone... only occasionally cracking an eyelid, remembering where I was, and subconsciously checking out how the morning light illuminates the room. She's been feeding me, all day at work, too. Though I know that at one level we fancy one another, I think it's more like she's just happy to not be living alone. At least temporarily. Well, I know the feeling. Finding someone to share space with, even remotely tuned to the same frequency, is the stuff of dreams. So, it's not exactly primitive camping. Nor living in a fleabag, or a trailer. So all's well. Though, defensively, I will always expect every silver lining to have a cloud. Just call it "enlightened optimism." Crept through Jim's house after work, skulking around like a thief in the night... recovering my spread out belongings from my four-year stay. Took fifteen minutes. Amazing what you can jam into a pillowcase, with the pillow still residing therein. Another memory. Got calls from Matt (desktop operator/epicurean/surfer) each day this week, spurring me to come on down to Ocean City for the Fourth with his wife (teacher/surf instructor) and kids. He seemed surprised when I mentioned my wife... like I was gonna jet from work tomorrow night. Things ain't rosy on the homefront, but I'm not gonna be an asshole. So, a "yes" turns into a "maybe." From what I've seen from the OC cams tonight... it looks like Mardi Gras out there. Or maybe Honky Gras. I'd certainly like to get the experience of standing on moving water, again. Though waterskis allow you the failsafe of the vest, it's very uncool to be wearing waterwings on a surfboard. Very bad form. It also turned out to be flirt day. Coming from Karen, and Sharron... who playfully dissed my fledgling dreadlock that's finally making its way to the first vertebrae of my neck. Nice little innocent ego boosts, for all involved. Another rambling account... my specialty. Time to give it a rest...though there's this rumbling in my gut over corporate greed. Having MCI as a next-door neighbor, and being surrounded by other sprawling babylons, nearby, has got the bile rising. Shoulda left that punk movie on the shelf. Old habits die hard. |
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