The Lap of Luxury

I'm vacationed out. Hopefully everyone I've been emailing about my trip isn't, because when I get home the blog is getting some of the email stuff repeated, but it''ll still be good to look at because I'll have pictures. Yes, visual proof. Since it's not time to go home for two more days, I'm just going to think about it.

These are the things I miss the most, in no particular order.

My mom and dad and seeing my dad in his new recliner having problem-solving thoughts, my pregnant sister and feeling my nephew in the making kick and swim, hearing Mack play piano in our house, Venus wagging her tail until she collapses when we walk in the door, Miss Kitty's hairy paws, Liz checking out my trash pile when she comes to visit in case I threw out something she doesn't need but will still take, long, hot walks with Leigh at the Arboretum while Avo refuses to pick up the pace, riding my scooter, making jokes about how much Betsy and Seth sleep, waiting tables at the Ketch and watching the drunk regulars think they are on a boat and are some special breed of pirate, reading books in the hammock, farrmers markets, MTV's Real World marathons on Sundays, doing laundry, updating the blog, calling people whose numbers I only know beacause they are programmed in my cell phone, playing volleyball, getting hour-long voicemails from Jen that are entire conversations and calling her back to leave her one, El Toro and afternoon margaritas, going out for a beer and some really garlicy appetizer with Ruble, hot chips, my Silky, my hair-straightener, my laptop, looking for a job and an apartment in LA, being able to drive somewhere if I want to, baby showers, weddings, pool parties, trips to Atlanta, birthdays.

Things I don't miss...

Local news, national news, news in the local newspaper, the fear that they infuse the news with, fashion magazines, our absurd, scandalous government, hearing about marines raping women and then killing their families, the "war"on drugs, the "war"on terrorism, beautiful people who never need a day in their sweats, working at the Ketch and watching the drunk regulars think they are on a boat and are some special breed of pirate, not having a job or a place to live, moving and packing, traffic, the unending tempatation to eat, fat people at Wal-mart in wheelchairs, enormous and ridiculous SUVs, parking lots that are too big and treeless to navigate by foot, that there's no where to take a walk without waging war with an automobile, never seeing any animals except cats and dogs, not getting a paycheck, junk mail for me, Mack, Shannon, Charles, Niki and Kelly Whitt (the woman I bought my house from) overflowing from the mailbnox, mowing the yard in the oppressive Kentucky summer heat, not being able to walk down brick alleys and admire the view at every turn, the excessive brightness at gas stations, buyin gas, the shameful architecture we pride ourselves on, how cheap America looks when you return to it after seeing countries that take pride in their aesthetic, complaining about America all the time.

I can't wait to get home, wherever that might be when I get there.