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August 07, 2005
More bounce to the ounce
I’m a lean, mean, packing machine. Well, not really but I am getting some packing done in between watching the Netflix movies we’ve had since January (!) and checking to make sure the Internet hasn’t disappeared. I’d say we’re about 75% done, with the rest of the stuff like: the sheets that are on our beds, dirty laundry, half-used bottles of lotion. Figuring out how to pack the last crumbs of my decade plus here will be my husband’s job since the Bean and I are Jet Blueing on Monday and he’s not leaving for another week or so.
Meanwhile, my husband is with our two year-old son at his family reunion and calls me periodically to tell me that Bean is white-water rafting, eating pork rinds, and doing shots with his Grampy. He’s under strict orders to call me back when the kid is on land and sober.
Seattle is not cooperating by being all hot and sunny and friendly. Who wants to leave a city that beams sun into your eyeballs at 7:00 am and says “Hello there! Want to go to the wading pool? How about some sushi later, and a couple of cold microbrews with friends?” Does Rhode Island even have wading pools and sushi, or is it going to be the Atlantic and clam chowder from here on out? I guess that wouldn’t be so bad. But the friends thing, aye carumba. I am nervous that we are entering the Land of Ultraconservative Momdom, where all the mothers have tans, cutely disheveled blonde ponytails, and pleated khaki shorts. I’m wondering how my husband with his tattoos and his Judas Priest t-shirts and me with my I-don’t-even-know-what are going to fit in.
Situations where everyone has to chat and drink punch and wear pastels turn me into a showcase of failed girlishness and I end up longing for my dirty south music while picturing everyone naked. That feels like a sentence that has never been written. There should be a bell that goes off or something, especially because, as any of my grad school professors will tell you, I’m a bit hackneyed when it comes to the words and the writin’ and stuff.
In closing, I would like to note that while I enjoy looking at Campbell Brown* and feel that she resembles one of my favorite ladies Parker Posey, to me Ms. Brown seems slightly insincere and like she might have been mean to people in her not-too-distant past. I hope it's not the case, but that is my impression. Is it because she is a famous newscaster and I am currently an unemployed, Molson-drinking packer of boxes? One wonders.
*OMG you can buy Campbell Brown! We’ll take two!!
Posted by Max at August 7, 2005 02:16 AM