tuckova

We did our whirlwind rock star tour
of California (I didn't take many pictures, sorry). We saw our first
roller derby and it was awesome. We ate a lot of good food. I found out
that Hendrick's gin is as good as its ad copy. I fell hard in love with
otters and seahorses. I watched Golden Girls for the first time. I
found out what the dot over the I is called in the course of losing
(but not badly) at trivia night. I turbo-taxed. It was mostly very
good.

On the road to Monterey, we passed a car on the side of the road. Two
people were hugging beside the car. My first response was WHAT THE
HELL? My sister and my son both said AWWW. This, along with their cute
noses, blond hair, and general irresistibility,  none of which I share,
is further evidence that I am basically raising my sister in boy form.
I do not wish it any other way.

Now I'm home and singing "good morning, jet lag, here we go again…"
to myself. I am sorry that I did not get a full vacation while we were
there (two rush jobs) but I am grateful as anything to have today off
so I can wander from room to room in a half-daze. I may glut myself on
the New Yorker or on television for the whole day. Or both! Certainly I
am staying in my jammies. It's just going to be that wacky.

I was planning to let Squire stay home after I woke up at four and
found out that he had been up since three, but he insisted on going to
school. Ah, school. We have not missed you at all.

Uhm, I got a really awesome contract (editing medical, marketing, and
miscellaneous texts, mmmmmbop) with a Prestigious Hospital and I'm
pretty excited about that.

I have felt more precious and more disposable in the last two weeks
than I have in a year, and holding those two feelings at the same time
is a level of dissonance that I generally try to avoid. It will pass,
but probably not until I've watched an entire season of True Blood or
something.