71. Marry, F-ck, or Kill

Warning: I use a bad word in this entry, my loves. We're visiting a friend of Megan's tonight, then on to the hinterlands tomorrow to see her brother and his family. We had a delicious burrito, and then went to have a drink or so at a little bar.  We played a fun game where you throw out the names of three people and choose which you would marry, which you would fuck-- er, make sweet love to-- and which you would kill. It was fun, but Megan and Allison wanted to throw around literary figures while I wanted to throw out choices like elephant, llama, or shark. Oh well.

I would not kill him, and I don't think he's the marrying type.

70. On Hold

We're trying to get our phone situation worked out so we don't rely on my brother or whoever happens to be nearby in order to contact someone. I am not entirely sure why, but this seems to inevitably involve spending a large amount of time on the phone, sitting on hold while whoever it is on the other end is  "checking something".

69. Need and Desire

I have a friend who just bought a new house, and is fretting over buying the very best, environmentally friendly and safe paint to cover over the awful colors left on the walls. I'm also, I think, about to get some new phones for milady and me, and I'm wondering whether or not to make the jump into the 21st century and get superphones. Tonight's sonnet is for us.

If only it was this simple

68. A diary of sorts

Stuff happened today. Nothing amazingly major. I found out I still know how to drive, Megan's travel plans were solved by a fortuitous chance meeting with an old friend, and we got taken to dinner. But still, it was hard to find time to get this sonnet written. But one of the upshots was this picture:

Megan said, "Move a little closer. No, closer. No, close...oh. Okay."

67. A Megan at rest tends to stay at rest

There will come a day when we will be back at work, getting up at grown-up hours and doing grown-up things and being all responsible. But today is not that day.

66. First Day Back

We're back in the You Ess of Ay, my Dear Ones. It's...surprisingly not as strange as I thought it might be. There is a sense of creeping strangeness, like it might be more shocking the longer we leave it to simmer. But our return has been vastly buffered by being met and pampered by my brother, plus having a mostly empty yet immense house to lounge around in for a while.

This is an important part of the transition process.

65. Lost in the air

We are back in the States, but only technically. We're floating in JFK airport, waiting a few hours for a fight that has now been delayed a few hours more, so...fun.  But I managed to write a sonnet while in the plane, much less than I thought. And it's a little...lost.

This pigeon is not lost. He knows right where he is--
on top of  a little metal railing-- and he is pretty proud of it.