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2007-03-20 - 9:42 p.m.

Winding it Up and Letting it Go

I haven't picked up my knitting needles (pointy sticks of DEATH!) all day. Makes me feel guilty, like being too lazy to take out the trash, or feed the baby.

This is why I don't have a baby.

Knowing that my time in Houston is coming to an end makes me melancholy. Our projects, plans and ideas are done, almost done, or completely shelved.

Finishing that game of Monopoly? Not gonna happen.

Blocking my first scarf? Done, and folded up for packing.

Going out to see a matinee? Ehhhh, probably not.

"Eight Below" was finally watched (and cried over) yesterday afternoon. Only a few DVDs and videos left that we haven't watched together. "The Departed" may, and "Borat" will, go back with me unopened.

The fridge and pantry stock is dwindling, and we only bought a few items for the rest of the week. Including, OF COURSE, our beloved ice cream.

Mom's enjoyed several YouTube videos (many thanks to Kungfukitten for introducing us to The Back Dorm Boys/Two Chinese Boys), seen how a chat room on AOL works (we said hello and everyone ignored us), taken pix with my digital camera, listened to music and comedy albums on Rhapsody, emailed her sis-in-law, looked at my blog, purchased a TV with a DVD player, and helped me figure out a Second Life name, so she's on the cutting edge o' technology.

Now she can envision what I'm doing when I tell her I've posted an entry, listened to a new song on Rhapsody or watched a video on my computer.

And I've learned how to make shit out of yarn knit, whip up homemade lemon frosting, hang curtains, and churn butter.

Friday has already been designated as "organize and pack" day. And I'm sure we'll spend the other daylight hours tying up loose ends. Friday night we'll sit around the table with a candle, chain smoking and listening to music playing softly in the background, whilst chatting. By that time, the car will be packed (Thursday will be spent fretting over whether everything will fit or not), and I'll head out early Saturday morning.

Oddly, I feel like I'm leaving home for the first time. It's weird thinking I have a whole life to go back to in Kentucky. And I use the term "life" loosely, folks. I have an apartment. An area I've settled in. Where will I work next? And how long can I put it off? Can I squeeze in a trip to North Carolina? Will I want to?

Will I still be a homebody hermit when I return? Or have my patterns changed enough to get me out more? I feel even more open-minded, and aware of how short life really is, with that whole Dad scare.

Have you ever been in a different city and acted different (and/or been more yourself), simply because you don't live there? Aside from the obvious New Orleans boob flashing/dancing on tables shit.

I doubt I'll be as chatty in check-out lanes or whilst browsing and say stuff to strangers like "ohhhh...you MUST try this!" I mean, I DO say things like that every once in awhile back in Kentucky, but mostly, I feel stifled. I LIVE THERE. I MIGHT SEE THESE PEOPLE AGAIN. In Houston, it's like "Fuck it!" and I say whatever's on my mind. I told a woman standing next to me in the produce section today that I wanted to eat the entire Food Town bakery it smelled so good. She agreed, but I could tell when she looked over at me that she was surprised I said something. That whole "no one talks to strangers in the elevator" protocol.

Bullshit! You'd be surprised how much fun it is to strike up a conversation or make a funny comment in an elevator, or some other "silent" zone.

Which reminds me, two years ago, when Dad was in the hospital for the first time in Baton Rouge, I wound up on an elevator to the lobby early one evening with a bunch of tall distinguished-looking doctors decked out in tuxes. I was stuck in the middle, all 5'2" of me, wearing a t-shirt and raggedy shorts. After a few seconds of silence, I said something like "Gee, I don't know why, but I feel a tad underdressed tonight." They bust out laughing. It was priceless, I tell you.

You know, that's one of the keys to life. Good memories, and lots of 'em.

And as far as my "new" life in Kentucky goes, I do believe the shopping mania is (almost) over. Good thing, because I can't keep dropping money like a whore on PCP. Although, GODDAMN I want a kick-ass PC for Second Life.

I need to whore it up in SOME existence, don't ya think?

Listening to: "The Story" by Brandi Carlile. Her voice breaking near the end does send shivers up the spine. Thanks Uncle Bob!