We spent a good part of yesterday picking up grapes with chopsticks. "I need to rehearse if I'm going to be doing this in public soon," said Sean.
So remember how ages ago I thought I was going to be bored on a layover and I asked you to ask me some questions and you did? And then the layover actually turned out to be quite interesting, or at least quite short, and I only ended up answering half the questions, and a large percentage of people were probably like "dude, thank god, how boring would it have been to read any more about her Kitchenaid mixer and her days of the week knickers and her clandestine love affair with Jared Leto?" (Oh, wait, I haven't told you about that?
The trouble with giving someone an antique opium pipe for his birthday is that you've rather shot yourself in the foot after that. Once someone has received an antique opium pipe for his birthday, a nice shirt or a good book is always going to pale in comparison, isn't it? Sean turned 30 today and, for a while, I was at a loss as to what to get him.
So we finally left Charleston!
I was browsing over at this site the other day, which is sort of a daily recap of Charleston-based blogs, and the author had written "Is it just me or does it seem like Holly has been moving forever?" No sir, it's not just you. It does seem like I've been moving forever, and I've got the battle scars to prove it.
I'm not sure what has been the most harrowing part of the last two days---attempting to pack up all of my worldly belongings in preparation for the big move, or discovering, upon sorting through the DVD collection, that I have somehow come to own the movie "Monster In Law," starring Jennifer Lopez. Sean swears it was sent to him for free by some DVD club he joined briefly, but if that's the case, I'd like to know why it was hidden at the back of the shelf behind all of the other DVDs, and also WHY IT WAS OPEN.
Remember yesterday when I said that hell was being in a car for fifteen hours? Well, I changed my mind. After sitting on an Amtrak train for nineteen and a half hours, I don't even think, like Jean-Paul Sartre says, that "hell is other people." Oh no, I've discovered what hell really is. Hell isn't other people, hell is watching other people play Tetris and not knowing them well enough to be able to show them where they're going wrong.
By the way, in case you were wondering, I spent yesterday between the hours of nine and 1am in hell. Perhaps you haven't been there, but hell is a speeding car on I-95, except it's not always speeding because it gets stuck in traffic in Washington D.C., during which time you lean excitedly out of the window, hoping to perhaps see Amalah or Emily or Sweetney in the car next to you. Food in hell---because whoops!