I've jet-lagged myself into the mindset of an early bird. The room is gray with morning light, and I'm wearing a t-shirt that smells like my favorite boy.
Back from the East Coast, and it looks like a suitcase has exploded in my room. It's full of semi-folded clothes and my brain is full of good, great, and cheer-inducing memories.
So with that being said, I'll review my week in a handful of the moments collected. I like to imagine them as metaphorical snapshots, laid out on a wooden floor so that I may stand above them and think. "yes, yes, yes!" I'll likely also dance a bit, maybe cry, and then sit down to cuddle them.
Mish made omelets, and I am forever grateful for back-porch-Sunday-mornings. The sounds of southern bugs had been forgotten since my move. They provided nice background tunes.
I visited Breaux Vineyards, where Ketel One and I shared the Virginia scenery, orange chocolate, and a knockout Cab Franc. "Like a saddle fell on the flowers."
There were homemade fajitas and a plethora of citrus-medlied margaritas.
Around 10pm, we watched The Graduate, where a plastic bag of bulk peanut M&Ms fell into my lap and I felt very alive.
Lemon-ginger kombucha plus bacon granola is the way to go when it comes to car trips.
I lazed in a hammock, where approximately one year ago, I lazed in the exact same position with the exact same girl and we giggled over the things we once feared.
Two lovers with bloated bellies ate salad greens over a maple desk.
We adored an armful of kittens, watching them dig their tiny kitty nails into the cardboard and mew for attention, or food, or just for the hell of it.
I cut a watermelon and felt very cozy.
I returned to my stompground of the Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire, where my dad and I shared Hefeweizen while dodging rain bullets.
Circa Paleo played and there was much rejoicing.
A microwave Amy enchiladas meal never tasted so good.
The words "free wine tasting" never sounded so good.
There were massive amounts of "I love yous" and tight embraces that warmed my soul like a pumpkin latte wearing a sweater.
The plane ride back was difficult, for sure, but I take comfort in a scented shirt and the words of Rainer Maria Rilke. These came from his letters to Franz Kappus, back when Mr. Kappus was goin' through his quarter-life crisis, and I HIIGHHHLY recommend his work for the readin pleasure of any writer, artist, or human.
"For the people who are close to you, you tell me, are far away, and that shows that you are beginning to create a wider space around you. And if what is close is far, then the space around you is wide indeed, and already among the stars."