Monday, July 9, 2012
Friday night as I was drifting off to sleep I vowed to join my friends early at the farmers' market but when my alarm went off I thought better of it and slept late. I would have had fun with them but sleep is like free vacation and I knew living solo for the next week or so, any farmers' market bounty would wilt and soften before I had the chance to use it.
I hung out with a new work friend for the first time, catching a flick at the dollar theatre. The movie was fun and all, but mostly I was just letting the meat-locker-chill of the theatre sink deep into my marrow. The mercury hit 104 F on Saturday, which, what the hell, Ohio.
Michelle had an in at one of those dreadful apartment complexes where all the streets are named thematically but more importantly there's a pooooool, so we hit the highway and got our little selves right into that chlorine soup. Even though the water wasn't cool (how could it be) it was refreshing as hell. We chatted in the water about friends and babies and Montreal like a couple of gossipy old bluehairs. And then we got our ghostly pale selves back indoors, because, did I mention it was 104 F?
Michelle made me roasted veggies from the farm market that I slept through, shallot mashed blue potatoes, and corn on the cob for dinner. She did not accept my proposal of marriage.
We bravely shuffled over in the heavy air to where our friends' band was set up to play for the monthly Gallery Hop. The art galleries in my neighborhood have a monthly hop where they stay open late and have little hors d'oeuvres out and folks from the suburbs try to parallel park their SUVs and decode parking meters....and can you guess why I typically avoid it like the plague? But the heat seemed to thin the crowd and then we got to hear the guys play for a whole hour. It was sort of Last Waltz style, musican friends would appear on stage to join them for songs, one of the bandmembers sheepishly called it "indulgent" to me before the show. Nope, guys, it was perfect. By the time they played their almost-last song, seven people were on stage, and they covered Faces' "Ooh la la". Someone crouched behind the stage and began lobbing water balloons at the crowd, little bombs arcing over us and splashing heat-baked water at our feet. I don't think I've been happier in months.
The show had to end, and it did, and Michelle and I went over to Brigit's where we heard there might be board games. Instead, Brigit was just casually frying up breaded eggplant/mozzarella wheels and I ate roughly 10,000 such discs from heaven.
I think I know what Phoenix meant when they said everything is everything. Or maybe I am having too much fun. But Nick, if you are reading this (you aren't, you don't) come home! Eventually.