i am a hungry little fish.
Nov. 26th, 2001 10:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aslantc and i drove home last night, came in to find the house lit up, and our guests were still here. colin and laurel left us a beautiful picture frame as thanks for our hospitality. we sat around, looking at the old yearbooks from before we were born; laughing at the provost in his early 70s chic. we drove them down to the t and drove off.
so then we went grocery shopping, and brought that smelly bag of returns with us---only to find that "belmont is a dry town," as reported by the pubescent smocked boy. he gave us vague directions to a liquor store, where they could take the returns (all this because c is a penny-pinching miser).
for some reason, we walked in door and promptly became ten year olds. we pestered the liquor man about the new-fangled holiday hours law (in effect for ten years now). c exclaimed over the array of forties in the freezer. c pestered the poor man about the patriots score. i gleefully traded our receipt for a pickle (yummy dill). after furtively snagging a few abandoned bottles in the trash, c insisted on a lotto ticket; but she didn't know how it worked (?) and pestered the man some more about how to do it. all the while we were so blissfully unaware of what idiots we must have looked. later over dinner we practically snarfed our soup remembering everything we'd done.
and all for a piddling dollar in returns, reinvested in a pickle.
today is boring work; annie and i are quick as can be, so we have nothing to do now. we're waiting for the fedex to come.
eleven days until i see my dad. and then twenty-one days until i fly home.
dreamed of cottages. and stealing a boy, and kisses. difficulty sleeping; i've forgotten the trick of pillows, of curling up and closing eyes.
so then we went grocery shopping, and brought that smelly bag of returns with us---only to find that "belmont is a dry town," as reported by the pubescent smocked boy. he gave us vague directions to a liquor store, where they could take the returns (all this because c is a penny-pinching miser).
for some reason, we walked in door and promptly became ten year olds. we pestered the liquor man about the new-fangled holiday hours law (in effect for ten years now). c exclaimed over the array of forties in the freezer. c pestered the poor man about the patriots score. i gleefully traded our receipt for a pickle (yummy dill). after furtively snagging a few abandoned bottles in the trash, c insisted on a lotto ticket; but she didn't know how it worked (?) and pestered the man some more about how to do it. all the while we were so blissfully unaware of what idiots we must have looked. later over dinner we practically snarfed our soup remembering everything we'd done.
and all for a piddling dollar in returns, reinvested in a pickle.
today is boring work; annie and i are quick as can be, so we have nothing to do now. we're waiting for the fedex to come.
eleven days until i see my dad. and then twenty-one days until i fly home.
dreamed of cottages. and stealing a boy, and kisses. difficulty sleeping; i've forgotten the trick of pillows, of curling up and closing eyes.
