Just flew in from California, and boy is my ass tired. Wait, did I do that right? But seriously folks. We went to the Bay Area, my husband's homeland, for two weeks and now we are back. Totally wonderful vacation filled with fun, sun, rest and relaxation. The kids basked in the prodigious and glowing love of their west coast grandparents, cousins, aunts, uncles and friends. This is what really made it worth the special hell that is the cross-country flight with two young kids. Oh, it's a special hell. And our kids were comparatively fine. Still hell.
California is a funny place. I love it, I even called
it home for a short time, but still when I go there I feel a little bit like
Margaret Mead. For one, why is every other person so FREAKING TALL? I am an above-averagely tall woman but I feel positively lilliputian in California sometimes. I found myself constantly looking straight up to have conversations. And the
produce. Have you ever seen "Defending Your Life" with Albert Brooks
and Meryl Streep? The premise is that after you die you go to a kind of limbo and
have to argue yourself into heaven. Everything is pretty much the same in this limbo as it was on
Earth except all the food is the very best food you have ever tasted.
This premise makes for an excellent running gag where every time Albert
Brooks puts something in his mouth he has this orgasmic reaction
because he's forgotten where he is. I have the exact same reaction
every time I put a piece of produce in my mouth in California. I am
like "Oh my freaking God this STRAWBERRY!" and then I remember I am in
California. Produce Heaven. This is the real reason they make you throw out your vegetables at the borders, by the way.
One of the other reasons we made a pilgrimage this year was so that my husband could attend his 20th high school reunion. I attended the main event with him and it was fun.
Surprisingly. Because early on in the evening I found myself
twittering "Hell is other people's reunions" in the bathroom stall. (Admittedly very poor form
on my part, I think I was regressing.) But then I had another vodka tonic from the open bar and, what do you know,
it got way better! Thankfully I have met many of Matthew's high school friends over the years and they are lovely and kind and do not make fun of their friend's drunky wife. My neck may have hurt afterwards (see above) but I was happy to be there and to meet new people from the past with him. Something that definitely struck me is how similar all the pictures that were on the walls were to the ones from my own yearbook, and I lived thousands of miles away. It's funny how you never realize in the present that you're just another geist in the zeit.
Happy to be home, of course. Sad that summer is just one more week for us. Lowell doesn't go back to school until after Labor Day but Matthew goes back to teaching on the 1st. Mopey face. Screw people on trains, summertime is the best example for the theory of relativity that there ever was.
