Her Green Figs

The fig tree putteth forth her green figs, and the vines with the tender grape give a good smell.

24 February 2006

Bury the Child! PLEASE!

I wasted away most of the day, accomplishing almost nothing. Rearranged the fridge, grocery shopped, scrubbed the tub. Blah, blah, blah.

Went to the first half of a fellow chorister's recital this afternoon. Her diction is excellent. Our conductor played organ for her and our head alto played piano while one of our baritones filmed it. It was a big festival of love. Everyone was there.

I ducked out early to have dinner with friends, one of whom had to be back for a rehearsal. After they told me another fantastically uncomfortable sex oriented story, the other one and I went to the theatre to see the WORST PLAY EVER (Buried Child)!

Including my little brother's 7th grade musical.

Lighting, okay.
Set, okay.
Costumes, bad.
Props, bad.
Makeup, bad.
Script, bad.
Sound effects, bad.

Plus, the seats were so horrible I had to stand up for the entire second act. My knees were hurting so badly I was actually crying. There simply wasn't enough room for legs as long as mine on either end of knees as bad as mine. Dreadful, dreadful, dreadful.

I am fantasizing about HeartThrob standing behind me, wrapping his arms around me, kissing my bare shoulder.

I am also fantasizing about a huge old school or church transformed into my new home. I found a great place, 38,000 s.f. former school, but it's in Anderson, almost 2 hrs. away. That just won't do. I drove around the Mill areas this afternoon to see if I could find an old ice warehouse or something for sale, but there was nothing. Although, I did find a quarry, which is a strange thing to discover downtown in your hometown when you're not expecting it.

I am also fantasizing about a musical career. Me, a competent pianist, a friendly recording engineer, and my album of lullabies (finally). Wouldn't it be something if HeartThrob and I did that when I got pregnant? I like that idea a lot. I'm still so bashful about performing though... I wish I could sing out as skillfully and enthusiastically in public as I do in the car or my dining room.

What I wish I were doing right now instead of sitting here (with aching knees) blogging:
1. Standing around a little stage in a bar, drinking a bottle of beer, with HeartThrob's arm around me,
2. Attending the Willie Nelson concert I intended to get tickets for but forgot,
3. Watching HeartThrob and our friends sitting around the living room joking and playing music while I get more pretzels from the kitchen,
4. Looking in the mirror to admire myself with Angelina Jolie's body,
5. Lingering over dinner at home with HeartThrob and Elizabeth and Marc, who've come to visit for a week,
6. Flying home to HeartThrob during a weekend break from the book tour for my WILDLY SUCCESSFUL first novel.

What I will do instead of these glorious things:
1. Soak my sore knees in my crappy apartment bathtub,
2. Have a couple of glasses of wine,
3. Try to learn our anthems for Sunday morning,
4. Play my gorgeous guitar and belt out a few folk songs.
5. Take some sleeping pills and collapse into my wonderful fabulous perfect bed.