365 posts.

I bought limes a week or so ago, thinking they would be good to have on hand for those many, many gin and tonics I scarf back. The joke being that even when I have all the makings around, I don't seem to want it as bad as when I don't (see various entries from months ago bemoaning the fact I did not have access).

I just seem to want things I don't have. Doesn't really seem to matter if I'll have them in the future, I'm very oriented in the mode of present time. Take this trip to Ireland. I wanted it, so I bought it. Actually going through with it is surprising me because the time flew by and here we are, a couple of weeks away from lift-off.

Not afraid to go, just surprised that it's almost time. I guess I'm more used to making plans, not so much in following through. Buying the limes, but not making the drink.

Came home tonight. Jumped in the shower, making it hot as I could handle. Listening to The Tragically Hip tell me about a small northern Ontario town. I'm a little homesick for my family. I often feel the urge to go and hide under my mother's bed when I'm sick. The teeth issue is no different. As though she could save me.

But the hot shower is almost enough to make me feel better. Water and skin. Just. It's cold here. The driving snow started just after 4 this afternoon. I leave little messages for Hawksley to return home all over the place.


Moon Over Marin - Matthew Good (Dead Kennedys' cover)

Labels: homesick, new