F and I went to Cambridge for the weekend to visit his 89 year old godmother and take her to the doctor. Cambridge is 8 hours away by car.Between here and there, there are approxamately 4,763 toll booths, and some woopty-doo New Jersey bridge was under construction at 1 am, so it wasn't a quick trip up. Around the time we hit the bridge in New Jersey (sorry New Jersey-ans [or whatever you are]) besides bat-shit insane for living in NEW JERSEY (and please don't start with the hate mail, I actaully have FAMILY in New Jersey) I looked up at F - I was lying down staring out the sunroof TRYING to pretend that we were not in NJ and said that I was going to need a 5th of tequila, a lime and a pack of smokes ASA fucking P. I haven't smoked in oh-so-long, and now the smell bothers me quite a bit, but anything woud have been an improvement to the "ode du New Jersey" that the Benz' carbon air purifier could NOT eliminate, no matter how it tried. F obliged me by pulling that bitch off at the next available gas station, which we did not know was actaully Cannecticuit. While Conn. does smell significantly better, it does not sell liqour of any type after 9pm. I almost bought cough syrup.
BTW - I am currently on a canference call with a client and I am shining them on so I can provide you, dear reader, with this fascinating update on my life and times. And also, of course, to record it for posterity.
Anyway, I went along with F while he took his godmother to the Dr and pharmacy, then to lunch at her favorite place and gave her chocolates and flowers.
This, btw, is why of course, I love F.
Anyway, the only thing that I wanted to do was find a bookstore, peruse the selection and buy a set of nameplates for my nephew. I am trying to cultivate his taste in literature by giving him books. And no - not for presents (I know kids don't want books as Christmas presents) but for "I love you" reminders. I saw this book I fell in love with about a month ago in B&N and got it for him with the intention of mailing it with a nameplate in it so that he would always remember that it came from me. It is called, "I Love You Through and Through" which made me so utterly think of him, that I could not bare not to give it to him with an inscription that reads "To C - I love YOU through and through" (I do)
Anyway, I finally found some at this bookstore in Cambridge, got them, opened them and discovered that they are not the nameplates that I rememner Grandma N lovingly pasting into MY childhood books. Cheap, cheap, cheap. And for 8 dollars!! I returned them post haste. F you Cambridge bookstore. I have decided to MAKE all of C's nameplates. I'll need to get on that as, at 15 months, I think he'll soon be at the age when he'l like to be read to. (Hopefully, if his father doesn't introduce him to the X Box first).
Poor C. I've had this stinking book for a month and haven't had one spare moment to mail it to him. He'll forget all about me. Not to mention that I love him from top to bottom.
On Sunday we went to a hand-made shoe store that I was looking forward to visiting, but it was closed. Cambridge was muggy and uncomfortable. I can't afford any shoes anyway - so I told F we'd better head home.
And I am in a bad mood. I am in a bad mood because I miss my friends and family. And I'm going to continue on indefinately, because I just can't see any reason not to be in a bad mood. Or to enjoy anything or to even want to try. I want to go home. I know grown-ups don't get to go home. I don't care.
I miss my nephew and his little mother.
I miss the Z's (all of them).
I miss my own little mother and her dog.
I miss Bob and the Kurtzes
I miss Mexico.
I miss white trash pool parties, a hooker and her little dog, too.
I miss the pelts.
Friends and family ask me, "How is married life?" "How is DC?" "How's the job?" etc.
DC - Food, culture - great, house - beautiful.
F - Love of my life.
Work - Very successful. Got another raise.
So anyway, I hate pop music.
But when all else fails:
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