Where the hell have you been?

The short answer? Florida. I lounged by the pool, ate Cheez-Its and cookies, and just generally loafed about. I guess that is a perk of being half-employed: vacations when I say, for as long as I deem necessary. Just another way I exact my passive revenge on my abusive boss. I am almost entirely adjusted to the idea of my folks living in Florida, although there are still many reminders that their house is definitely, well, theirs.

When my parents moved in, "my" room became a dumping ground of sorts for the odd pieces of furniture they did not want to part with- but also decided they did not want to look at on a daily basis. It's ugly, and smells a bit like the dead relatives that bequeathed a majority of the aforementioned furniture. Given it's proximity to the laundry room, there are almost always carefully sorted piles of clothes heaped on the bed. Adding to the mix is my father's decision to put any photo or portrait they own of me in my room. I have often tried to convince him that it makes the room feel like a memorial to a departed one. Going home means sleeping in a creepy shrine that smells like Grandma Rose and Tide. I also try not to answer the phone while home. If I do, I am nearly always asked to speak my name slowly and clearly, and then explain my relationship to the known occupants of the home. I am the Narnia of the three children- very few know I exist, and the rest just don't buy it.

All in all, it was a very pleasant trip home. I did a fair amount of shopping, but mainly for boring things at stores frequented by Young Republicans. I discovered that Neiman Marcus is the best place to be when having a down day. The salespeople quite literally trip over themselves to get to you first so they may have the privilege of showering you with compliments and agreeing with you. If I told the saleswoman that I thought she was ugly and her perfume smelled like cat pee, her response would have been nothing but praise for my selection of the "Purple Vamp" eyeshadow and my flawless, dewy complexion.

I supposed that's the news for now. I'm back in New York, bored, a little sad, and eating peanut butter straight from the jar using carrot sticks. Apologies to James for not writing on Thursday, as promised. Perhaps I will make it up to you by coming to Savannah soon.

Unless there are bugs there. I don't do bugs.