Break Clocks, Erase Calendars

Been a timeless few days. I'm on holidays.

Last Thursday night, I left work at a ridiculously late hour. Working late to get everything done before my 11 days off.

Yes, 11 days. I'm not back at work until the 18th. Friday morning, it seemed like forever.

This weekend was a lovely blur. Eric and I spent hours going through old photos of each other, getting tipsy in various locales, eating good food, fooling around and talking. And suddenly it's Tuesday and I have a new haircut and it's almost time for yoga. What? How'd that happen? I think kissing makes time go faster.

Friday night we went to see Blades of Glory at Silver City. I've only been there once before, and I hated it. But E. had a gift certificate, so off we went to the burbs. It was as awful as I remembered it. Walking up to the door, I said to Eric, "You know, last time I was here, I got pretty panicky." And started walking slower. This time wasn't so bad, but I basically made him manouever us to a safe spot. And then I breathed and simmered the fuck down.

I have built a life where I am surrounded by People Like Me. So until I go to Gloucester, I think I am part of the norm. I never think of myself as weird or unusual or eccentric or quirky. And then I go to the movies in the suburbs and I realize that I am probably all of those things and I start to worry about the state of the world if these people all *like* coming here and the masses think this is actual culture then human beings are actually all fuckers and we're ruining the planet and we deserve to die. My hands get tingly and I feel the need to rub them together.

Blades of Glory was a pretty funny movie, though. There was one part ("That's mind-bottling." "Mind-bottling?" "Yeah, you know, when something's just too crazy and your mind gets all bottled up inside it.") that made me laugh really really hard. And Eric and I made out like teenagers, which was fun too.

Saturday was a delicious dinner at Shelley and Steve's house. Irene is learning how to knit, so I showed her a couple things. We had very nice conversations and talke *a lot* about MySpace and Facebook. It seemed, this weekend, like everywhere I went, people were talking about blogs and Facebook and MySpace. It was totally weirding me out after a while.

Sunday night, E and I were at the Manx for a beer (we had a booth! all to ourselves! oh, the luxury!) and the kids in the booth behind us started talking about Facebook and blogs. I paused in my conversation and said "You know, if I hear one more mention of Facebook, I'm taking down my profile and I am never going to blog again." Eric knew I was lying, at least about the blogging. I'm far too addicted. This was highlighted when David Scrimshaw popped into see if some other bloggers he knows were there. David and I started talking about the Elgin Street Irregular's site, and how witty they all are, especially that 4th Dwarf, until David very politely paused and said to Eric, "Do you have any idea what we're talking about?" No, he did not. Though slowly but surely, I am ensaring E. in this bloggy web. Once you get in, you can't get out.

Yesterday, we tried to go to the House of Staples. I have been dying to go to the House of Staples. Hard to tell in that photo, but that's the side window there, where all the staplers are displayed and numbered. The store was closed, so I picked out the one I want (#30), and I can't wait to go back. How does the system work, I wonder? Do you actually order by number? Is there a form to fill out? I hope there's a form and I hope it's in triplicate. I hope it smells like grease in there.

Last night, I tidied my house, fucked around on the Internet, and finally created a flickr account and uploaded some pictures of the trip I took last September. (Steve took the first one at at Risser's Beach - that's Mitch, Shelley and me from left to right.)

And now it's Tuesday afternoon and it feels like no time has passed and like my vacation is almost over.