It was weird typing in the livejournal address, and not having anything come up, however. I kept thinking: what happens if six years of my life just got swallowed up, and is lost forever? That would be BAD.
And journals do come in handy, mark my words. Last night, my friend Buns wrote to me, asking the name of the girl who played Anne Frank in a production I directed seven years ago. Going back to my journal (which was written on a legal pad at the time), I quickly located her name: Christine. Something or other. That, I didn't write down.
I also wrote: "It's a good cast. They bring a lot of food to rehearsals." That about says everything, don't you think?
I actually didn't go right to bed, last night. As we were dancing around the supermarket last night, which we do so often, Corb suddenly felt a wave of nausea (must have been the dancing). He headed off to the men's room, and that gave me a chance to linger in the book aisle. So, yes, I did what 5.6 gazillion people did this week-end and picked up a copy of "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows."
Already, I can see that this one's going to wrap up a few loose ends, including that nagging plot flaw that I spent so much time bitching about. That's good.
There are only a few places that I consider Nirvana in this world, and most of them are silly and childish and probably no one else in this lifetime could possibly ever seem the same way that I do. They certainly wouldn't ever be on anyone's list of seven wonders, that's for sure.
Still, for me, they're patches of pocket bliss. They evoke feelings, make my stomach feel tingly inside. They bring a smile to the face, each and every time.
Splash Mountain in Disneyworld is one. There's a patch of grass in Edinburgh, too. My writing space in Eldredge is up there. And finally, there's the Lazy River, which is located within a water park in Wareham, MA.
Just grabbing my inflatable tube and dangling there, motionless, as the water current takes me around in a fat lazy circle is enough to make my soul smile. Especially on a warm summer day.
This past Sunday, Corb and I took the kids for our annual pilgramage. The day was beautiful and it was heaven spending an hour on the Lazy River.
There was one incident that marred the day, overall, however. Corb banged his head going down a water tube at the start of the day, and immediately started to feel violently ill. He spent more of the day laying in the cabana we rented, nursing a throbbing headache. That headache didn't go away until last night, and even, he went to bed early for the third evening in a row.
So, what price Nirvana?