Sunday, March 29, 2009

in review: a journey with pictures

this weekend has blissed on in one eternal stretch of joy.  like the road before jack kerouac.

weekend highlights:
--finishing on the road friday morning.  best line: "it was remarkable how Dean could go mad and then suddenly continue with his soul--which I think is wrapped up in a fast car, a coast to reach, and a woman at the end of the road."
--remembering that i really do like playing the guitar incessantly for hours on end, as a result of discovering this.
--pupusas at el salvadorian restaurante
--eating jelly beans and laughing for 45 minutes straight, while driving on the freeway with paigey.
--REdiscovering favorite flavors: lemon, blue speckled, grapegrapegrape, and coconuuutt
--katherine asking it exactly like it is.  honesty: appreciated.  
--realizing that ten years later, we're still doing the same things at sleepovers that we did when we were twelve: eating, giggling, and talking about boys.  and then, once we turned on twilight, realizing that chances are that for those of us who are teaching tenth-graders, we probably spent our weekend the same way our students did: sleepovers and twilight.
--making two new friends at said sleepover.
--freezing to death and trying to sleep at the same time, while tipping backwards off my recliner in the middle of the night.  "No!"
--french toast, strawberries, and powdered sugar creating saturday morning bliss
--fraternizing with Cornelius Carmichael (tennis racquet and all) and Winston Shemerington.  the three of us waltzing into Smith's like we owned the place, Penelope Wimbeldon being escorted by two gentlemen.
--hearing the prophetic ice cream truck, foreshadower of one adventurous day soon to come.
--finding the song they played on npr the other day that i liked so much:  Dan Auerbach, "When the Night Comes".  See here, you.  
--finally washing my car real good.  using the 14 quarters from justin to do so.
--watching eagle boys plant a strawberry patch
--having a dead goldfish thrown at me.  having the dead goldfish thrown at me stick to my shirt.  screaming and shaking the dead goldfish thrown at me off my shirt.  having a watermark on my shirt in the shape of a dead goldfish from the dead goldfish thrown at me.
--the annual festival of colors: hare hare hare hare krishna krishna krishna krishna

--pizza + suns game = comfortable
--making a garrett sandwich
--looking back at a perfect weekend.

1 comment:

  1. beautiful! there are many more weekends like that to come. love you, carolyn.