I go through periods where all I want to be is a hermit living under my covers watching Kimmy Schmidt. And that's lovely. But then I start to think that I should get out and be amongst humans and it's usually when I get to that point that my calendar starts filling up. It's nice that it works out that way. Which makes me think that maybe I'm giving off vibes that people pick up. Like, "No. I'm hermitting right now." or "Yes, please. Take me out into the sunshine." For those of you who are around me on the regular please don't feel hurt when I give off the hermit vibe. It's not you, it's me. I genuinely like you. I just really also like my silent bedroom.
Which isn't so silent right now as there is a pack of feral girls over at the school behind my house having a shrieking contest? I think? I mean, they're really going for it. Aside from the fact that it's making my ears bleed, I do think it's kind of charming because my childhood friend Shanley and I would go over to the school and do all sorts of random things. Like run around the field on foggy mornings. Or bring pencil and paper and write letters to marine biologists with questions about sea horses. Shanley was desperate to get some. I do wonder sometimes what has become of her.
On childhood, longtime chum Valerie was in town for a few weeks and when she brought her girls over for a visit the first thing she did was walk to the side yard to check out the wood pile which is no longer there. She and my sisters used to spend many hours after school on that wood pile, avoiding nails and stuff. It's been moved and organized and covered with a tarp, which is a real shame for all the future children who will play back there. Ah, youth. Keep screaming girls!
Val and James also came over the other night and watched Cdm. Scott Kelly land on the Kazakhstan steppe after his year in space. They brought Marinelli's and we toasted space and Mars and the astronauts and exploration! We also really felt for Sergey, one of his fellow travelers, because he looked like we all would look after a rumbley flight through the atmosphere. That is to see, barfy. They pulled him out of the capsule first and immediately he had the barf bag to his mouth. Poor guy. I would literally be lolloping out of the top and wailing if I were in his shoes so I get it. They carried him over to his chair and bundled him up and then pulled the other two out. They both looked hail and hardy and poor Sergey looked like a wet rag. At one point someone started combing his hair and it was such a pathetic moment that I loved him instantly.
Where was I even going with this? Oh, right, I'm being social now. And as such my friend Jill and I have started a regular lunch date. Jill and I taught seminary together for 3 years. I had the freshmen and she the sophomores. And every day we would meet up after class and talk it out - about the kids, and doctrine, and chocolate. And I've missed it since moving away so we've instituted lunch. And today we went to the Nordstrom's Cafe. And here's the story about that (Is that not the most Perd Hapley thing I've ever written?) When I was younger and going to the mall more regularly I used to park in the Nordstrom's covered parking and take the elevator up. There was always parking I would cut across Norstrom's to get into the mall because their perfume aisle was far less aggressive then say, Macy's, which is a gauntlet. There used to be a sign in or near the elevator with the departments and I would always notice that the cafe was on the top floor. And in my mind it seemed like such an elegant thing to do - to spend the morning shopping at Nordstrom's with friends, possibly getting some kind of frivolous accessory or a tweed suit, and then go get a salad at the cafe. It was all so very ladies-who-lunch. I never shopped at Nordstrom's of course. Only Ladies of a Certain Age and Tax Bracket did that. So when Jill suggested our next lunch should be at the cafe I was all in because I am of age and also living the life of Elegant Leisure. Although I still don't make enough to shop there. It wasn't as fancy as I had hoped. I mean, the servers were wearing matching t-shirts, for crying out loud. But it did live up to the expectation that I was eating a salad with a friend. We are officially ladies who lunch. And I did peruse the accessories on my way out.