lindsayliveshere.org

Going away for the weekend to a cabin in the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia with friends and friends of friends. I don’t know much about the cabin, or the area, or anything really. This week has been crazy, which limited my ability to consume information, especially long e-mails from the folks planning the trip about what to bring, what to expect, etc. Oh well. I’ll report back.

In other news, my dad mailed me my cell phone charger and it arrived today. All calls may resume. I know you’ve been eagerly waiting. I know.

I am phone-less for the moment. I left my cell phone charger in Buffalo, and my dad is mailing it to me, but it hasn’t arrived yet. I sort of feel like one of my smaller toes has been severed. It’s not debilitating, but I definitely notice something is missing. I don’t have anyone’s phone number memorized. It’s all stored in that tiny little phone — a scary fact of modern life, eh? Anyhow, that’s why I’m not returning your calls.

Addendum (ten minutes later): I figured out how to check my messages from a touch-tone phone. And — ha ha! — I have no messages. So never mind, okay?

Bonfire last night… We were at Jill’s house, and the stars were out. It was three of my friends from high school (Deanna, Jill and Sarah) plus an entire crew of friends of siblings of friends of friends.

“Welcome to… high school!” Deanna said as I sat down around the bonfire with a Molson’s in hand. But it wasn’t like high school as much as it was like slipping into a favorite pair of Converse sneakers, the pair you’ve had so long that the imprints of your feet are worn into the insoles. Comfy comfy comfy. And so, so much fun. Every two sentences, we cracked each other up.

Molson’s has silly labels on their bottles. Mine said, “I JUST WANT TO BE HELD”. Sarah peeled it off for me, and I stuck it in my back pocket. (Buffalo recognizes the superiority of Canadian beer.) We toasted marshmallows (and Peeps). Sarah lit bits of grass on fire. Someone played a didgeridoo made out of PVC pipe. Much merriment was spread.

Now I’m back in D.C., feeling freshly scrubbed after my weekend away.