awake--check, watching a movie--check, packed...ummm...
It is nearly 11:30pm. I am leaving for the airport--to fly to MI--at 4am. These are all the things I haven't done yet:
- Cleaned Mummy Dearests' (and Hubby's) house where I have been staying all week while they were on vacation. It's not really dirty...just need to gather and take home my crap.
- Wash a load of laundry (which would include the clothes that I am still wearing and the clothes that I need to PACK!)
- Check in with Farmer MacDonald to make sure he is still driving me to the airport at 4am. Well...guess I will just expect to see him since it's too late to go check with him.
I am looking forward to the time away from community, to get some perspective and take some time for myself. I am going to my friend Stac's (and Jay's) wedding on Friday. As a singleton I always feel on the outskirts of some secret society when I go to weddings. I have a sneaky suscpicion that one of these days I may actually be in a committed relationship and all the non-singletons will teach me the secret-you're-gonna-get-married-handshake. Until that point I stumble on and am both awed and frightened by the thought of marriage. I think the idea of promising that you will spend the rest of your life with someone is amazing. But the thought of spending the rest of your life with only one person is scary as hell.
Whenever I think of weddings and have to actually go to a wedding, I always think of one of my favorite comedies, Four Weddings and a Funeral (which I know I have quoted on my blog before). It is such a funny and honest way of looking at relationships and marriage and reminds me a little of some of my friends.
Found this quote from the movie and cracked up reading it, hoping that the best man's speech may be half as entertaining as this:
Charles: "Ladies and gentlemen, l'm sorry to drag you from your desserts. There are just one or two little things I feel I should say, as best man. This is only the second time l've been a best man. I hope I did OK that time. The couple in question are at least still talking to me. Unfortunately, they're not actually talking to each other. The divorce came through a couple of months ago. But l'm assured it had absolutely nothing to do with me. Paula knew Piers had slept with her sister before I mentioned it in the speech. The fact that he'd slept with her mother came as a surprise, but I think was incidental to the nightmare of recrimination and violence that became their two-day marriage. Anyway, enough of that. My job today is to talk about Angus. There are no skeletons in his cupboard. Or so I thought. I'll come on to that in a minute. I would just like to say this. I am, as ever, in bewildered awe of anyone who makes this kind of commitment that Angus and Laura have made today. I know I couldn't do it and I think it's wonderful they can. So, back to Angus and those sheep..." (Four Weddings and a Funeral)
Outside of that, the weekend will be spent hanging with my family and friends. I am looking forward to it, and just hope that I catch up a little on my zzz's while I am home. I sometimes pack too much activity into my time at home and come back exhausted. Well, without further ado, I should sally forth and pack, etc.
Thinking of traveling reminded me of this poem which I was introduced to during my undergrad and which I have LOVED ever since! Enjoy!
Land lies in water; it is shadowed green.
Shadows, or are they shallows, at its edges
showing the line of long sea-weeded ledges
where weeds hang to the simple blue from green.
Or does the land lean down to lift the sea from under,
drawing it unperturbed around itself?
Along the fine tan sandy shelf
is the land tugging at the sea from under?
The shadow of Newfoundland lies flat and still.
Labrador's yellow, where the moony Eskimohas oiled it.
We can stroke these lovely bays,
under a glass as if they were expected to blossom,
or as if to provide a clean cage for invisible fish.
The names of seashore towns run out to sea,
the names of cities cross the neighboring mountains-
the printer here experiencing the same excitementas when emotion too far exceeds its cause.
These peninsulas take the water between thumb and finger
like women feeling for the smoothness of yard-goods.
Mapped waters are more quiet than the land is,
lending the land their waves' own conformation:
and Norway's hare runs south in agitation,
profiles investigate the sea, where land is.
Are they assigned, or can the countries pick their colors?-
What suits the character or the native waters best.
Topography displays no favorites; North's as near as West.
More delicate than the historians' are the map-makers' colors.
"The Map," Elizabeth Bishop
P.S. Speaking of land...I went to check on and water my seedlings...parsley has sprung up over the past two days. Now waiting (im)patiently for the other seedlings to sprout. Good thing I will be in Michigan this weekend and unable to watch them...something about a watched pot never boiling...hmmm... ;)