Batteries: recharging.

August 11, 2008

I’m feeling really peaceful and content this morning.  We hosted company this weekend:  friends-of-friends who are now, more or less, actual friends (I’m trying to ignore that one of them occasionally says things like “maybe I barely graduated high school, but I was, like, reading Atlas Shrugged at fifteen!” as if that were something to be proud of).  They got in early Saturday, and we spent the day at the Whitney, enjoying the Bucky Fuller and Paul McCarthy shows.  Very worthwhile.  That night, we had dinner in–our farm share included eggplant, tomatos, greens, basil, onions, etc., so I made an eggplant parmesan dish, layered like lasagne, that turned out to be really quite amazing, and salad and bruschetta.  We didn’t eat until nearly 9pm, and were joined by a friend of our friends.  It was a merry little party with good wine and conversation and music ’til all hours.

We stayed up late and then slept poorly, thanks to guest-whose-snoring-sounds-like-granite-in-a-rock-tumbler-broadcast-over-a-PA-system.  24 straight hours with the same people in a open loft apartment, with no place to which I could retreat other than the bathroom, left me feeling really prickly and in need of some quiet.  RB joined the others at a concert yesterday afternoon, and I stayed home, with all the noise machines turned off. After a few quiet hours of snuggly-kitty-and-book therapy, I was quite myself again and enjoyed another evening of revelry and silliness.

But today, after another night of rock-tumbling which not even high-tech silicone earplugs could vanquish, I breathed a sigh of relief to watch them take off for a day-trip out of the city.  Except for a quick stop to retrieve their luggage before transitioning to another friend’s apartment, our hosting duties are over.  I am home, alone, with no music or tv or radio, no company for whom I feel compelled to play hostess and out of politeness ignore lights left on, 15+ minute showers and general bathroom-hoggery, and an unreasonable number of half-filled glasses left to sour on endtables.

Even better, it is cool and dark and rainy, which suits me perfectly.  I feel like I can get some work done.  I’m obviously not solar-powered.


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