Bo-ring, right? In my defense, I had social plans six days out of the previous eight.My liver isn’t 23 years old anymore. Neither is the rest of me.
First there was a gluttonous, delicious birthday dinner at Javelina – yes, the site of that hilarious NYT review. If you get there, make sure to get at least one kind of queso. I was too hungry to take pics of ours so here’s one from Instagram.
I asked my mother if she could dig up any of my childhood journals. Recently she delivered.
My eighth grade journal was apparently started as a part of a school assignment. I can tell because each entry includes a vocabulary word which I would helpfully underline. As a result, though, the entries in this journal are 1. brief and 2. not juicy. Fortunately there are more journals coming.
You’ll be glad to know that one of my key personality traits emerged early: I have been a lady of leisure since the beginning.
I had a mother-daughter weekend in the DC area. A cousin got married and Mom asked me to be her date. Dad is doing pretty well, but his health ups and downs mean he’s less likely to enjoy all of the standing around a wedding reception can entail, or a four-hour car ride.
I was [mostly] happy to step in, for the chance to see relatives and to try to see old friends in DC, time permitting.
After a week of miserable rain and humidity, Saturday dawned perfectly pleasant: sunny and dry.
But it wasn’t the prospect of a good hair day that had me smiling. Instead, it was the fact that the future owner of an unwanted – and very, very large – piece of furniture would soon be removed from my bedroom in the new apartment. Continue reading →