I love the smell of dryer sheets after they've already been through the dryer cycle. I wonder if they smell like fresh laundry or if fresh laundry smells like them. At that point in time, I get the strong feeling that it all sort of meshes together into a new smell, one all its own.
The Foci took me down to the District this past weekend for an impromptu dinner visit with the GWU kids. They love me. They really love me. Amazingly so, considering the President's recent re-election (not that I had much to do with it beyond putting an unwanted sign in someone's yard and getting to the polls on election day). It's amazing how well we get on though. The group of them, all 15 of them, are the most politically liberal and passionate people I know. Alejandra and I are most definitely conservative and politically active both. But just five days after the absolute antithesis of their political existence is elected back into office, we are able to get together for a friendly dinner.
It is based on this that I can justly say: it is the roast chicken that brings us together. It is the sauteed cauliflower with curry and brandied carrots that bond our souls. It is the cranberry almond cous cous with orange blossom butter that springs the well of love in our hearts for one another. All that, and approximately 18 bottles of wine.
We all ate and laughed for hours. We drank like it was nobody's business. Two o'clock in the morning interrupted us and the room reeked of passion fruit candles, marijuana, and satiated appetites. We lounged and smoked and vowed to change the world. I assured Looney that he is the only liberal politician I would ever dream of working for. I wore my favorite blazer and smelled of vanilla. Life is good.
I sit here now in my office, talk radio blaring in the background. Alice, one of our Jersey City volunteers, is methodically stuffing envelopes. Her hair is a shade only carried by Clairol and her shirt nearly matches. Under these glorious fluorescent lights, she's all but glowing with mustard splendor. Alejandra's loft seems a million miles away - absolute eons ago.
I miss the District. I've been told the District misses me as well.
Gregory is in Honduras. Hrrmmmmm...
I miss him. I didn't think a week would be a big deal at all. Well, it's not, really. Well... I sort of miss him anyway. Damn. I can't even fully admit that I miss him. I suck.
So I got a little ray of sunshine last week. It was welcomed, and enjoyed even - although my heart was really with Huck and his bees.
Figure that one out if you care.