Hot, Hot, Hot
August 25, 2008 § 2 Comments
Centralia? Not as en fuego as it used to be; we could only find a few spots that were smoking. And we counted five houses left, and we saw one guy mowing his gigantic lawn. It still smells, but not nearly as bad as it used to; enough though that Scott was introduced to my horse-like habit of exhaling quickly through my nose and grunting when I get an awful smell stuck in it. Sexy.
(I scolded him for the thumbs-up; it seemed insensitive. You also can’t really see it, but that rock was smoking.)
Saturday night we took my Mom out to dinner, where we plied her with lambrusco until she surrendered the following two juicy tidbits:
1. She quit smoking while pregnant with my older brother, but smoked “three or four a day” while pregnant with me. So many things make so much sense now.
2. Post-labor, when the doctor brought baby me into her hospital room, she was so loopy that she told him and my father, “I dont want anymore, put it back in the fridge.” I’m guessing she thought I was a pizza.
My grandmother’s party was fantastic and I ate way too much food and cake and the lipsticks were a huge hit — she immediately slicked on her favorite and slipped the tube into her pocket. I was thrilled. Meanwhile, we did a lot of driving over two days, and I’m beat.
Tomorrow I’m heading to NYC for a few days for work slash to campaign. Busy week, and I’m beat already.