Never be afraid to get dirty, but be sufficiently sure-footed to avoid the abyss of contamination.

Catching Up

Internal monologue: It’s Friday night. The half-marathon is on Sunday. Is there still time to start training?

The combination of the endorphins after the run and the honey wine during dinner was a unique experience. Prior to a couple months ago, most of the people at dinner had been strangers, but I had seen one familiar face in a math class several years ago. His off campus personality was just as entertaining as his on campus one; some might consider it funnier given his lack of restraint.

Internal monologue: Saturday, August 2, 2008, 2:56 PM… when was the last time you put on a pair of roller skates?

It took a few minutes, but I was able to catch up to my childhood abilities fairly quickly. To clarify, that means some seven and eight year olds put my skills to shame. An old friend and her new beau had organized the event, and their friends were totally cool. After a few hours on skates and after many years of abstinence, the ICEE was a welcome treat.

The internal monologues stop temporarily as I catch up with friends and family over the phone.

“So now we’re dating, and guess what? She’s from Jersey!”
“They’re performing the ceremonies this week. I can’t believe it’s been a year! I was talking to paati; it’s cute how much she misses thatha.”
“Newbury Street? (aside) Have you heard of…? (to me) Oh, we’re going there tomorrow. She knows where it is.”
“Did you know your thatha’s nickname among his friends was Bhishma? So as she was talking about Bhishma in the lecture…”
“Yeah, her fever’s down. They’re both taking a nap now.”

The interlude ends.

Internal monologue: Mac and cheese? More like rigatoni and rarebit.

The pop-in was upgraded to hanging out, and my cooking buddy and I enjoyed our linner. The rarebit’s consistency wasn’t perfect, but it tasted great. The melon he picked up from the Farmer’s Market was amazing. Before leaving and with A’s permission, J’s guitar was mine to play.

Internal monologue: That guitar may be the perfect end to this exceptional weekend. Wait a second. Who’s calling now?

A 3-D movie was a great way to end the weekend, too.


One response

  1. Pingback: Cooking with Abby and Ally « Dirty Hands

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