hippies descend

Day 1:

Back to work today after three very hectic days off. Hectic, but good. Thursday night was a scramble of house cleaning and last minute touches; I was expecting B1 & B2 and TSOldtimer, fellow farmers, to arrive Friday and of course I had waited until the last possible minute to finish cleaning and prepping some of the foods that would be served at my grad brunch on Saturday.

I had been eagerly anticipating B1&B2, and TSO’s visit for about a month—as eagerly as a child waits on Christmas—and now as I sit alone in a now still, sleeping household; my Roomie M and our dog Tobey now asleep; I think about how I can’t believe that just three days ago I was welcoming my friends. Friday flew by in a haze of story-times. Our round the corner pre-k-ers came in their usual Friday groups of four and we read through books on Valentines Day—what joy is mine—and this routine gave the day wings and it was no time before I was doing yet more cleaning up around the house and last minute mental checks in preparation for my guests. I love preparing to have company, but I am definitely more careful in my preparation for farm friends. I try and make sure that I have little things set aside, like plenty of good tea, something which we drank a lot of in my past life, and a couple fun little restaurants to try out. I find that my farm friends, unlike many people I know, are willing to try new things.

Friday night after B1&B2 and Nathan arrived we ate homemade yummy roasted sweet potato and black bean burritos with salsa and guacamole (so good!) and chatted. It was nice to hear about B1&B2’s upcoming move back to the farm and TSO’s brief comments about his recent trip to Spain and his indecisions as to what comes next. It is especially nice to hear about someone else’s wavering, makes me feel as though my already peaked quarter-life crisis is not a solitary experience.

That night we burned off our burritos dancing at Boogie Fever, in celebration of Married K and Joe’s birthdays. There is something so evocative about dancing to music from one’s childhood, though strangely in all the familiarity you are surrounded by tons of people you never knew and friends whose names were foreign to you at the height of the music’s fame. Lessons learned from the night:

  • Just because Copa Cabana is playing, you have NO RIGHT to bring up seeing Barry Manilow in Vegas. That DOES NOT make you cool—it makes you old.

  • Saying you “smoked marijuana” at said concert also does not make you cool.

  • Sometimes no matter how loud you shout in your friends ear, the Bee Gees may still be louder.

  • Married people without wedding rings on are still NOT fair game.

  • Spinning around a lot to a Michael Jackson montage is not as sexy as you think if both people aren’t “into it.”

As many good nights end, we ate breakfast in the early hours of Saturday morning at a Coney Island, filling up on greasy food and sharing funny stories of the night. Those are the nights that I never want to end.

Much more to say about their visit, but this is as far as I got. Today at work my friend Rocky Racoon (who met my farm friends briefly) said that she took one look at my friend and thought "Hippies." Not in a bad way, just in an observatory fashion. I wish I were a hippie again. *sigh*


Amos said…
We will be hippies again one day. Don't worry friend. Love you.
TSOldtimer said…
Hippies? I mean, really. Hippies?

TSOldtimer said…
This comment has been removed by the author.
Kt said…
Hippy is but a frame of mind and a smell of clothes, isn't it?

Man, sounds like good times. I space out on the blogosphere for a few short weeks and BAM! Suddenly you've got a job and everyone's going crazy and babies are making babies!

Actually, I don't know that the other two have happened, but I'm glad to see you conquered the -ick- "job" thing, even if it is only temporarily. That means that you broke the GF curse.. yay!

I love that you have a friend named Rocky Racoon! If they have not yet departed, say howdy to the farm folks for me.
Raise your hand if you:

-have long hair
-used to walk to work barefoot in the summer
-listen to folk music and understand A. why it's good, and B. what they are saying
-have ever smoked pot with a bunch of people who think that is a good hobby

Um, if you can say yes to the majority or some of those, yes friend, YOU are a hippy.
TSOldtimer said…
well, since you put it that way...

I guess I do smell like a hippy, too.

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