Yes, because I have all the time in the world! Except for how I really don't, because I have to clean and clean and then straighten up some, and then pack. Tomorrow, Florida! withdiamonds! Disney! Yay! And also a few days with my dad and stepmom, and I promised my old boss I'd drop in on her and the unit, and it'll be warm, warm -- omg. It snowed here last night.
And then, a week or so after I get back, me and the kitties saddle up and head out west. Driving to the Bay area, and I can't wait, except for the part where I keep forgetting it's not just a little time away, it's three months, so I guess it's more than just remembering to take the trash out, but I'm not sure what. Turn the heat off? Put the plants outside and hope for no more snow? Whatever, it's an adventure! I love adventures. I thought being on the Slippery Slope of DOOM (i.e., freshly turned 46) was supposed to cure me of that, but no. Not so much.
The other night the fam and I went out for a fishfry. So very Milwaukee, smoky tavern and bottles of Pabst, rye bread and potato pancakes and applesauce and seven (7!) large pieces of crispy fried perch, and on the way home I'm not sure how it came about, but we got to talking about being old. Huh, maybe some fallout from the SS of DOOM. Anyway, I told Maya, you realize when I'm 92 and completely gaga, you'll be the one taking care of me, right? You and your husband? And she said huh, and thought about it for a minute. If I'm married, she told me, grown up little ten yr old that she is. Or your wife! I said, and she said EW, laughing, and I caught an uncomfortable wave from the front seat of the car, and it occurred to me that in my generation growing up, me and my sister's and my brother in law's, that sort of thing just wasn't talked about like that. Not without kidding.
But that's sort of... okay, not to generalize, but that just fits in so well with my memories of Milwaukee and growing up. If you could get people to shut up about colored people, you were doing well, much less fags. So now, just this week, sitting in the breakroom at work, listening to conversations swirl around me, Don talking about his son, how he collects parking tickets and doesn't pay them and all the drinking and his car isn't registered and no insurance and everything else, so frustrating, and Beth laughing and saying, but at least he doesn't dress like a woman! At least he doesn't have a boyfriend! and laughing and oh, yeah, for sure, for sure. And me looking at them and saying, that's worse? That's a thing that's worse? And of course then the polite backtracking and no, he should live how he wants to, that's his choice, of course -- of course.
Yeesh, what a choice.
I love it here, I really do, because I've met so many kind and open people, so many people with big hearts, but sometimes the people here are still perfectly satisfied with the size of their world.