If I ever have to go to rehab for anything I now know I will be all Intervention on whom ever is willing to care about my ass. Irrationally refuse, then go, knowing I am cared for with my wits. I miss writing. I miss you guys. More than I thought I would. I am in NEPA (Northeastern Pennsylvania for you outsiders) for the month of July. I had my bridal shower on Saturday. I hate the word bridal. I am listening to Justin Bieber right now. Don’t judge, you have your fleeting, comforting music too. I still appreciate the complexity of Keith Jarrett.
Coming home to PA is a whirlwind of eating, drinking, reminiscing, and just being. The leaving has gotten easier. A little bit. I love Seattle, but home is, well, home. Cyndi Lauper now. Pizza, wings, bread, cheesesteaks, real hoagies, $6 packs of cigarettes: it’s like heaven. I cannot forget the sun. I left Seattle with my heat on. I have become the terrible twos, Damien from The Omen, a Republican, the guy who shot Bambi, you name it in this heat. It is the opposite of productive. You want to shower every 7 minutes, and motivate yourself to about every three days. Did I mention the air-conditioner is out in the car? I am Cruella Di Vil + Captain Longstocking in severe heat and humidity. I miss home.
I will be back in Seattle posting my foodcapades from PA soon, but I wanted to share just a little bit of what wonderful friends and family I have, because without them food is just compost in waiting.
I have been voted down on cooking for my wedding, which I now know was a good decision. I was cooking about two hours into the shower. The whole thing flew by like the last baseball game of the season. I am not an experienced shower attendee. I thought my gifts would be sent to Seattle, and it would be a night of eating, drinking, and talking. Enter presents. I was a shiny bride even in the air-conditioned house. I am shocked that every picture does not have me wiping my top lip. How do you do it in the South?
As I tried to take sips from my beer and read cards, they were taken and recorded in Brazil fashion. I got gifts from the heart and didn’t have time to express how special they were to me. I hope I can Thank-You-card the way I felt that day.
I now would like to pay special thanks to my doll Rosebud. Let’s just say I have a little OCD, control issue in the kitchen, but Roseann appeared like a culinary angel, and pretty much saved the day. The only way I could explain how wonderful she was is that she asked which side of the grooved cutting board I used. I knew I could leave things in better than good hands. She was mixing our signature drink, and plating endive Caesar bites in her sanguine way. It made my night.
My Steph did whatever random thing was needed with grace, and Megan took the best pictures without knowing she would take the only ones. I am usually a camera bug, but that night I am not even sure if I went to the bathroom. She was my eyes that night. I thank them and love them both.
I grew up with these girls listening to Mary J, driving around, getting caught for underage drinking, and just growing up. And still.
My mother deserves her own post, so she will get it. We were moving my piano two days before the shower that she has kept and moved for me for more than a decade. I never took a lesson in my life.
My sister in another life, my aunt, Laura. The only person who can prepare for any event in this family because you are my mother’s sister. I believe my mother was at one point showing her how to sweep a sidewalk when there were bags of sugar in the doorway: and we were out of lemons.
My Mel and her bruises. I won’t go into detail, but it was worth it. My Marti Rae, I only drove that far for you.
I think about all of you more than you can imagine. You will always have somewhere to sleep, and someone who worries about you.