How do you spell festivities?

If I told you everything about my last 24 hours, you wouldn't believe me. And I wouldn't want you to.

I feel rather awful right now, but MY, what an experience. I want so badly to write about it all, spill every detail with relish and delight and pain. But I won't. I want to curl up and fall into a deep, restful sleep, but I can't. I must be at work very soon.

I have realized there are angels among us. They walk the Goddess's great Earth with us, sometimes unseen and unacknowledged. Others have names and stories and some just happen to be unfailingly perfect and your best friend in the whole wide world. Some might be tall, soft spoken men from Ohio, with kind eyes and a Chevy pickup. Still others are baristas, dark hair lining their eyes, who can take one look at you and know it's not okay.

So how do you spell festivities?
A Styrofoam cooler, a borrowed green and pink bikini, looking into stunning eyes, late nights, impulsiveness, circle of death? Stolen toothpaste and sleepy mornings. Tears and phone calls and marshy ditches.


- "I don't want you to watch me brush my teeth!"
--"Is it bad that I don't care?"
- "Hmph"
--"You want to pout about it?"
-"Yes."

"NPH wouldn't do that."

...


Be well,
S-