Thursday, September 04, 2003
it's early. we're jet lagged.
but i find i'm liking this early morning time. when else to we fix breakfast at five thirty? when else do i have the time and inclination to make scones? and when we're done, washed up and everything,
it's still only eight.
we're in my parents' house. which, quite frankly, is a palace compared to anywhere we stayed in europe, and is such an open space treasure compared to the new york apartment that it feels like we're simply in another, rather nicer phase of the vacation. no sheep and scenery, but a fully stocked kitchen and a king sized bed.
(yeah, it's my parents' bed. i could feel gross, but we really needed the sleep and it's too hot for PJs.)
it's time to start the goodbyes. last dates with important friends. and also the part where you gradually give up on seeing people you want to be important but really you just never knew them well enough. i'm throwing some kind of party. if you're going to be in my town next weekend and you don't find an invitation in your email, leave me a note.
i just . . . you know, goodbyes are my kriptonite. i'm fine now, but next week could be, um, fraught. if you see me, please tell me if my mascara's running. i need to look hot at my party and hope people come.
people will come, right?
but i find i'm liking this early morning time. when else to we fix breakfast at five thirty? when else do i have the time and inclination to make scones? and when we're done, washed up and everything,
it's still only eight.
we're in my parents' house. which, quite frankly, is a palace compared to anywhere we stayed in europe, and is such an open space treasure compared to the new york apartment that it feels like we're simply in another, rather nicer phase of the vacation. no sheep and scenery, but a fully stocked kitchen and a king sized bed.
(yeah, it's my parents' bed. i could feel gross, but we really needed the sleep and it's too hot for PJs.)
it's time to start the goodbyes. last dates with important friends. and also the part where you gradually give up on seeing people you want to be important but really you just never knew them well enough. i'm throwing some kind of party. if you're going to be in my town next weekend and you don't find an invitation in your email, leave me a note.
i just . . . you know, goodbyes are my kriptonite. i'm fine now, but next week could be, um, fraught. if you see me, please tell me if my mascara's running. i need to look hot at my party and hope people come.
people will come, right?
