notes while you slumber

I feel like I’m getting a pretty good sense of K? I mean as best I can without actually being there in the physical environ. I cringe whenever I hear about the work-cave and my shoulders sag at every tale of SG. And her demoralizing directives to grade so savagely, use less a/c, wear more flair. But then the beach v-ball and the Ohioan volcanic caves are pretty magical. And this wondrous losing of weight and adjusting of clothes in whatever way possible, with these random buttons and elastic and hand-stitching. But then the preposterous cultural commentary of you’re becoming pretty and a man-magnet, like can’t human beings come up with anything better to say. And the food seems yummy? And there’s access to lattes! 

My nosy-hag neighbor is really playing hardball for access to our phone numbers – something about going out of town and she has a nurse/sitter for her husband and wants us to check in – but every fiber of my being says noooo. and it can lead to no good. I mean ask a neighbor to grab the mail or whatever… but monitor your husband’s nurse? Humm. Anyway, I’m happy to rig up a couple of cans and a string if telecommunication is that important.

Went to a wine-tasting yesterday evening with book club peeps? Which was held in an art gallery full of naked-people sketches. I felt like yes, cultural things sometimes go on here. This is good.

Here is a magnolia that J.Lo brought home for me yesterday. It lives in a margarita glass.

K.Lo is on Summer Break and 5 hours in, it’s not so bad. I did draft a bucket list ICE, or ICILMM (in case I lose my mind). But mainly she wants her BFF to come over and play and asks every 5 minutes for me to call her friend’s mommy, whose number I fortuitously snagged at graduation. I mean as a phone-phobe I’m already performing a Great Feat by calling and leaving a message. So then it’s a waiting game. And an explaining game, that it’s not actually polite to keep calling and hunt a friend’s mommy down.

The

loud minutes

tick

by

Camping trip on tap this weekend and I’m trepidatious of too many people, but will pack my blinders and wine. Also, J.Lo is being Mr. Doomsday about the projected heat, but doesn’t it cool off at night? Yes it does. However there’s this implicit suggestion that if we all suffer, and/or if the dogs incur heat stroke and die, it will be on my head. Because I’ve forced us all to camp on a hot holiday weekend. Whatevsss.

Also I lost control and made my own graham crackers yesterday? Who even does that. But maybe they’ll taste awesome or something.

I’m almost finished with the YA/Chicago/angel/demon/soul-selling book (which is rad), and procured 3 more up-nexts. And am listening to the Quiet book mentioned by somebodysmom on audio. Which so far is fascinating. How the whole culture of character vs. personality emerged over the last 100 years or so. Mainly it makes me angry, but I’m sure some positive reframing of perspective will at some point occur.

Otherwise, we’ll have to chat soon, like either your morning or my morning?

Soon.

xoxox

penelope