Aside from a jaunt to the Frye today with Manuel and Chas, I have officially spent my whole weekend in. (I advise you to run, not walk, to see this Joseph Park show.) I came home after work on Friday and didn't leave again until it was time to meet these two in Pioneer Square this morning.
As I've said time and again, things have been sort of crazy lately. This is a direct result of being single: there's no reason to stay at home if I'm just going to be hanging out with myself all the time. So I have been going out. A lot.
It ended up being a perfect weekend for staying in, as the unseasonable spring weather has been overtaken by normal Seattle drizzle and wind. I don't mind being out in the rain, but I do love to stay at home with some tea when it's like this. And that's what I did.
And so I spent some quality time with myself. I asked myself important questions and got satisfactory answers. I cleaned out my closet. I tried on all my clothes and assured myself that I looked totally hot, and that if I hadn't been currently involved in eating a sandwich, I certainly would have done me. I read, I watched movies, I knitted, I worked on some literary theory I've been mulling over. (What? You can take the girl out of academia, but you can't take the academic out of the girl.) Spring always get my brain going, and I'm full up to here with all sorts of theories. I always feel smartest in the spring.
And now I'm ready for you, week, and all you've got to show me. You're already filled up with plans. I'm still all antsy for adventure--even though it's raining I know spring is still there just behind, and I want to go hand out e e cummings poems on streetcorners like religious tracts. I want to follow the baloonman, but I want to be him too.
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