i know life is not about time or is, at least, not all about time because i just spent an hour revising a poem and i hate it. a just god would never have fashioned things that way.
i thought i was about to escape snot season unharmed, but, alas, here i am in my usual spot between the couch cushions, sniffling my dreary old evening away. a few moments immediately come to mind that i believe could have doomed me to this fate, none of which i feel comfortable describing to you here.
nothing good can come from throwing up out of nowhere, but if the options are pregnancy or disease, i’ll take disease until we get into the actually-serious ones. then i would have to take some more time to deliberate.
i took the redeye to miami on thursday night and fell asleep before we took off, which has never happened to me in my life and was actually quite bizarre. the more i’ve been flying recently, the less anxious i’ve become, so impressive the improvement that i hardly flinch through turbulence. of course, this is all at the expense of my carbon footprint, but it does make a good case for exposure therapy.
my parents picked me up from the airport at 6:30 on friday morning; we drove straight down to the keys for my childhood best friend’s wedding. we stopped in islamorada for breakfast at lorelei’s, an institution so crusted with salt and grease i’d wager it survives florida’s inevitable drowning. naturally, i thought of gilmore girls, thanked it silently for being the unexpected bridge between an old and new self. we all ordered a 9 a.m. cocktail because we could. these are the simple pleasures we would be fools to pass up.
“where’d the handsome one go?” my mom asked to no one, searching the waterside patio for a specific red-winged blackbird. when i got back from the bathroom, a cat crossed my path, his nose so tiny and pink i had to squeal. if this blog is anything, let it be florida propaganda. where else can you be sunning and barefoot in february, rogue sand in your purse from who knows where?
if there exist alternative answers to this question, i don’t want to know them. until sunday morning i didn’t think about my life, just my feet (in the sand) and my family: my parents and the found siblings i grew up with. all the days that had wedged themselves between us. that time i drank too many mike’s hard lemonades and got in the wrong car after the bonfire. that time we flipped the golf cart in the woods and survived. that time we were walking home from publix one summer and promised we’d never smoke weed.
some promises get broken. some don’t. we don’t always remember making the ones that go unspoken, but we feel the weight of their sanctity when it comes time to uphold them.
after the rehearsal dinner, we went out in key west, sat on a rooftop on duval street and listened to a beautiful blonde woman sing 90s country covers. she had a powerful voice that forced me to believe her. she over-explained her originals, but i let it go, mostly because i overheard someone say she had been on american idol.
after the bar, we stopped at the only pizza place that was open. it was philadelphia themed, which was odd, but it made my parents happy. that was their life, i realized, the one they had before i was born. while we waited for our cheese pie i danced excessively to the tech house blasting at a very questionable volume for such a small space. i don’t care if people look at me. i want them to, i think. the guy behind the counter said i was very entertaining, and i’m pretty much convinced that this scored us extra cheese.
on the way back to the KOA, a half moon hovered above the ocean – warm, rich orange like mid-autumn, a slimy slice of canned peach.
“oh, yes, that’s a canned peach.” we all seemed to agree. we ate our pizza in the dark and listened to two different covers of “harvest moon.” i watched that peach reflection ripple, only texture to hint at what was. i could have floated away but i didn’t. i just sat in the back seat and sang.
obsession of the week
my current favorite ambience video. it plays in the background of every moment i spend at home. when it’s not raining in real life, i close the curtains, so i can pretend better.