Trés Ya-Ya!!

Okay, okay, so many of you have been asking about this weekend, and the shenanigans I got into at the beach.  It wasn't exactly The Divine Secret Life of the Traveling Pants, but almost.  It was great to check in with the ocean, you know, just to make sure it's still there (it is, in case you were concerned).  I met a dog named Sadie who entertained herself by ignoring her human's commands and chasing her own shadow--she seemed convinced that if she could just dig a little deeper into the sand, she would finally catch it.  (It reminded me of Peter Pan a little bit, but different because he lost his shadow and he wasn't trying to dig it up but rather sew it back on....with soap, so never mind.)  I befriended some pretty wonderful women who are funny and smart and among the walking wounded--just like me (oh, and modest, too....)  I played several rounds of Dutch Blitz, which I haven't done since high school.  If you aren't familiar with this "Vonderful Goot Game," you should be, and quick.  It's like the card games Speed and Solitaire had an Amish Love-Child.  Good, right?  I also continued this new thing I'm trying where I'm open and honest about where I am at any given moment.  I talked about my depression, my voluntary commitment last spring, my wish for a fairy tale love, and my belief that maybe we all have a story to tell.  Oh, and I wore my Don't B H8N on the HOMOS tshirt, which was met with much appreciation.

But I think my favorite moments are more like snapshots; conversations or statements made in passing, but that truly seem to sum up the whole of the weekend.  If none of this makes sense, don't worry--it really doesn't to me, either.  But that's what's so great about it, no?  And away we go:

Several stories began with the phrase, "So I was talking with my anarchist friend--the friendly one, I mean."  (Because, apparently, there are lots of UNfriendly anarchists out there.)  I have since decided that I should write a children's book called Lisa and the Friendly Anarchist.  It could even be a series.  Lisa and the Friendly Anarchist Plant a Garden.  Lisa and the Friendly Anarchist Sew Their Own Clothes.  Lisa and the Friendly Anarchist Lay Siege Against the Capital and Now America is Without Leadership.  But, you know, in a friendly way.  This is Pulitzer Prize material, my friends.

I heard a lot about this woman who is affectionately called Michelle the Bride, even though I'm pretty sure she hasn't been a bride for some time now, but rather a wife.  (For some reason, we couldn't transition to Michelle the Wife--not that it really matters, because I've never met this person, so she could be Michelle the Drag Racing Butter Sculptor for all I know.)

I finally figured out how New Hampshire, tanks, and pumpkins are all related.  That's right.  I said it.  Don't believe me?  Check out the Keene Pumpkin Festival website for proof.  Who needs Punxsutawney Phil when you have A PUMPKIN FESTIVAL???  Plus, the "Live Free or Die" state has finally figured out that, in case of terrorist attacks, the only logical preventative measure is to buy their own military tank.  I mean, why didn't Homeland Security think of this sooner?  (Aaaaaaand, now we're all on some FBI list because I just mentioned Homeland Security and terrorist attacks and tanks all in the same blog post--and you read it, so you're guilty by association.  You're welcome!)  New Hampshire, here I come!

The moral of the story:  Better to have Burning Bushes than burning bushels.  (Just let this one happen.)

And though this wasn't strictly part of the weekend, it's too good not to share.  So, the Boy Genius Organist and I are driving home from choir rehearsal this week, and he's complaining about a bruise on his knee.  Naturally, I inquired about how it happened.  He said, "A stiletto."  So I said:  "Uh-huh, and what were you doing that warranted a stiletto to the knee?  Who did you piss off?"  There's silence for a moment, and then he finally replies, "Well, I was wearing the stiletto."  I'm not even really sure about the rest of the story, because I was too busy laughing, and saying, "Of course you were.  And why wouldn't you be?"  My friends are better than your friends.  They all wear stilettos.

And Traveling Pants, of course.