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Dec. 13th, 2002 08:34 pmOh the loff. The loff of it all. It's very very good to be home. I came back in a blaze (I spelled this “blaise” the first time around. Ha.) of last minute packing panic, offset by a deep-seated slack groove.
My mom drove up to the airport just as the plane touched down, and I got to wave at her from the air. This is why I love small airports. The road to this one is about fifteen feet to the left of the runway- and it's funny to see the cars go by. (Especially when they race the plane. They always win.)
There's a new restaurant on main street, a sort of haute-turkey-sandwich place just like the other four or five. This one beats them all in the décor though; it’s a converted gas station, which has been standing in the same spot probably since the birth of the automobile. Inside, it’s all greens and purples and sleek chairs with glass backs, pulled up to tables that come up to your shoulders. It’s all very art deco. The outside of the building is shocking pink.
I saw the high schools' winter production- which was an interesting exercise of the drama geeks (who knew what they were doing) and the rank beginners (who did not). I don't mean to malign theater newbies, but something is seriously wrong when you are sitting in the second row and can not hear a word they're saying. The play “Asylum” rocks my little theater nerd socks in a very abstract sort of way. I’d read the script, but I’ve never seen it done, and once again, the script was a paltry measure of the actual hilarity of the show.
This friends list loffing-but-not thing is rather disturbing. Which one is me already? I just keep seeing them and thinking that one of them must be me... but which one? And how could you hate me so when I've done nothing to you?
My mom drove up to the airport just as the plane touched down, and I got to wave at her from the air. This is why I love small airports. The road to this one is about fifteen feet to the left of the runway- and it's funny to see the cars go by. (Especially when they race the plane. They always win.)
There's a new restaurant on main street, a sort of haute-turkey-sandwich place just like the other four or five. This one beats them all in the décor though; it’s a converted gas station, which has been standing in the same spot probably since the birth of the automobile. Inside, it’s all greens and purples and sleek chairs with glass backs, pulled up to tables that come up to your shoulders. It’s all very art deco. The outside of the building is shocking pink.
I saw the high schools' winter production- which was an interesting exercise of the drama geeks (who knew what they were doing) and the rank beginners (who did not). I don't mean to malign theater newbies, but something is seriously wrong when you are sitting in the second row and can not hear a word they're saying. The play “Asylum” rocks my little theater nerd socks in a very abstract sort of way. I’d read the script, but I’ve never seen it done, and once again, the script was a paltry measure of the actual hilarity of the show.
This friends list loffing-but-not thing is rather disturbing. Which one is me already? I just keep seeing them and thinking that one of them must be me... but which one? And how could you hate me so when I've done nothing to you?
