Sunday
13 February 2000
11 44 pm pst [ relaxing ]
We are relaxing. I am trying not to get on his case about homework, and he is trying to adjust to having me back in his life 24 hours a day -- and know that this visit is only for a short time.
I treated him to dinner at Kathmandu, one of our favorite restaurants. We stuffed ourselves on lentil soup, veggie dumplings, and mismas (spiced vegetables served with rice and bread).
After dinner, we caught a whiff from the flower store next door as we exited the restaurant. The smell was delicious -- fresh Eucalyptus was predominant.
I stepped inside to rob the place of a bit of its breath, and Matthew asked if I wanted roses between my inhales. I said I wanted all different colors and he produced a half dozen lovlies: white, orange-yellow, red, pink, yellow, and orange.
It was an unusual selection, but it was what I wanted. Because tomorrow is Valentine's Day, they were absurdly expensive. I paid for our groceries on the way home. The thought of strawberries and chocolate for dessert was calling me.
I am playing with my digital camera again -- my favorite toy. I am glad to have my system working again. I know I will play often while Matthew is in class. Something must occupy. I did rent a Cary Grant movie for tomorrow.
We watched The Prince of Egypt on DVD tonight; I devoured strawberries and chocolate and pouted that they didn't include the traditional version of the song "Let My People Go!"
I have one of those ancient shirts that one dreams the ultimate demise of. It is white with delicate blue and yellow flowers. It is thin as can be, and will surely survive few more washings. I don't know where it came from of how long I have had it, but I love the feeling of it's thin material on my skin.
It is the type of shirt my mother would insist I throw out. I will wear it till its dying day.
two years ago today: "I figure I am paying to be here, so I should get my money's worth."
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six months ago today: "We sat down at the blackjack table and my mom announced that it was my first time gambling. Thanks, mom! Then the dealer carded me, and we made some joke about how I look fourteen. A guy across the table said I looked ten [my mother later said that I should have replied, 'do these look like the breasts of a ten-year-old?']."
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