friskin

Everything here is fine, between all the comings and goings of strangers. This weekend is the Regatta. It seems that for boat lovers this side of the Mississippi, Blue Mountain Lake is the place to be. Fortunately, after forty-eight hours of rain, the sun seems to be tentatively peeking through. Maybe. A little... I'll probably not make it down to the water today, anyhow, so it's not really my concern. The only event I really want to see is canoe jousting. And if I COULD go down for that, I'd most certainly want to participate as well, and that could be disasterous.

I'm coming home for Father's Day and to visit the New York State Library Firefighters Collection. By the middle of next week, I will be able to tell you everything you ever wanted to know about Indian Fire Pumps.

Oh, and something else to look forward to: Plattsburgh (and Montreal) next week, followed directly by a move up to the house on the hill. Debauchery and moral infirmity. Yesss.

I looked down to realize suddenly realize that I had no idea where my shoes were. I was pretty sure that I hadn't walked all the way over without them, because I couldn't remember the feeling of wet grass on my toes. I'm pleased that no one can see me walking around the office barefoot. It's been a while since I've felt the carpet.

Michael and I live together in domestic bliss that should only be attainable to those who have slept in the same bed at least twelve times. Having done this a total of zero times, I al also pleased that the sexes can co-habitate peacefully, minus any mushy stuff.

I suppose this is a pleasing evening. Black flies with white legs. Scattered thunder showers, and anticipated weekend jollies. Mom and Dad are coming to visit soon. Clean conscience, happy heart.

<3

Came home from yeaterday's journeys to find a housemate. His name is Mike. He is nice. Lake Placid ate my money.

Came home from today's journeys a new woman. Climbed to the top of Blue Mountain, and nearly died several times. My body might never forgive me. I'll see how I feel in the morning.

Spent the evening with K and M, made grand plans and heard delightful stories involving people I'll never know. Tomorrow, as far as I'm concerned, is Monday. I'm very ready to start my week.

Cooked some yummy dinner for myself and watched stupid sappy Coming of Age Movie. I laughed. I cried. I cried some more and felt like an idiot for crying so much. I laughed again, and this time it wasn't at the movie.

I had a dream last night that I was pregnant. I'm sure that most women and a number of men have these dreams, and if you're lucky (or unlucky as may be the case) enough to remember them, you should know how powerful they can be. I can't stop thinking about it, thinking about if maybe it was real. In the dream I was thinking about how I wouldn't be able to row the boat now because I might hurt my baby. I remember that I didn't want to be pregnant anyway and so thought I'd row the boat and hope for the best. I remember asking my mother what happens when someone has a miscarriage. In the dream I thought, I'll have to take a semester off from school. I tried to count the months until I could go back. Impossible.

It's easy to dream here. I walk outside and everything I see is beautiful. Next week I'm going to hike to the top of the mountain, which apparently is only a couple miles from here. Now it's dark outside, and I'm glad I brought my flashlight with me because, darling, when I say dark, I mean it.

P.S. Today I learned how to drive the CLUB CAR!

P.P.S. Troy: My days off are Monday and Tuesday, so if you want me to come down some time, let me know. Otherwise I'll come down anyway, but likely continue my hermit-ish habits.

P.P.P.S. Come visit me, please. You don't have to sleep in my bed if you don't want to... there are seven others to choose from. Unless you're AMcG, in which case we already have an understanding.