Luscious Depravity

I had a dream last night while staying in a Holiday Inn Express in Newark, Delaware.  Geno’s was still in the basement, only it was where the Big Sleazy is.  My friend and I were standing outside - I was collecting money ($5/person) and she was stamping hands.  It was still light out, so there were not a lot of people coming in. Besides, I need a refreshing beverage because it was hot out.  So, I went downstairs. They had wifi there, but not if you closed the bathroom door.  Something to do with it being in a basement, but it seemed weird.  Anyway, my reward for helping work the door (and doing so in a very weird outfit), was a small beanie- baby sized plushy, handmade by the barkeep.  It was orange.  Couldn’t decide between a stegosaurus and a triceratops (although I would never have that conundrum in waking life) and so it came out a Stegaceratops, and was pretty freaking adorable.

So now, I expect you are wondering, why did I have this dream in a Holiday Inn Express in Newark, Delaware.  The first part of this quandry is easy to answer - I like Holiday Inn Express.  For my money, they are relatively inexpensive, I always know what I am going to get, people are friendly, and they have continental breakfast.  Overall, they are RELIABLE, and that is truly what the weary traveler needs.

But Newark, Delaware?

I admit I was lured to the area by the Rest Stop of the Future, but in reality, Delaware just sucks and it was just a stop to keep the day from being too long on the way to D.C. The water tastes gross, the pizza is gross, they don’t sell beer in 7-11 and the beer they have in the liquor store is loads of disappointing and kind of expensive.  Thank you, Newcastle, for not being gross.

I did get a bag of nectarines from a farm stand at a rest stop in Massachusetts.  That was pretty awesome.   That made me feel better about driving through the Bronx at 5p.m. and having to pay more than $9 for the privilege of leaving the state of New Jersey.

And, we listened to a bunch of Prairie Home Companion (no thanks to the crappy reception of New Jersey’s NPR station) on CD that my darling sister lent us.

Today is a new day, filled with possibility and lack of Delaware.  I will take photos.  Good times will be had.

Capoeira, wushu and muay thai expert Mark Dacascos!

The science of why we can’t sit still, but would rather do nothing than do something pointless.

Beginners whiskey cabinets.

Ice T is awesome.

It is a bad summer for cartoonists.

This is hilarious and wonderful.

I love my husband.

My hand hurts.  When it is not in a splint, I am doing exercises to help it get back on the right track.  I’m taking ibuprofen.  I am avoiding doing anything that would be considered resistance.

I can type again, and use a mouse as long as I don’t overdo it.  I can write, but not for extended periods of time.

I tried the other night to knit, with the splint on.   Tried to do it all Irish cottage lever style, to minimize damage or at least not impede the healing process.  It did not work.

I miss knitting.  It soothes me.  It helps me both unwind and create simultaneously.  A sort of guilt-free loafing.  And I miss that.

I have all these baby items that need to be completed for all sorts of interesting new people that are coming into the air this summer.   I suppose these new people aren’t going anywhere, and their parents will likely be deluged with new things in a more immediate time frame, so waiting a little while won’t hurt.  But dang it, I want to work on these things.

Before going to Playback last night, the Tinas and I got first mojitos of the season.  We went to Walter’s, and I had a pineapple mojito on special.  It was delicious.

And oh yeah, dodgeball injury.  Might be severe tendinitis, or a broken pinky, or torn ligaments.  They can’t decide.  But, in three weeks I should be knitting again.  The three longest weeks ever.  However, made shorter by mojitos!

Remember. Let go. Move on. I will miss it more than I can ever say.

-Damon Lindelof

Enjoy tonight. And thanks for all your love and support for the last six years. You’ve lifted us up.

- Carlton Cuse