May 28, 2008...2:07 am


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Ah, Memorial Day. A long awaited excuse for a day off.

I woke up on this lovely Monday holiday much like I wake up on most days: brain swelling inside skull, sheets wrapped around legs, boyfriend mysteriously pinning my arm to my mattress.

Except then, like magic, I didn’t have to go to the dreaded work(s). I got to sleep! In! late!

We trained to New Jersey, a lovely place with trees and fields and streams and without subways and taxis and people who spit on my shoes. The Boyfriend and I took a long walk on a trail where we fell asleep to the sound of little birdies or buggies and leaves rustling and whatever other sounds it is that nature makes on a perfectly temperate day.

We had a bbq with delicious burgers and best of all… we built a fire! Actually the Boyfriend in his super genius manner constructed a boy scout certified fire in a pit while I jumped about flailing my limbs and coaxing the firewood to burn with my words. I think that helped. The fire smelled like warm and summer and smoky, smoky goodness. It smelled like bacon tastes, only better.

I don’t know what fire means for you, but for me it definitely means seeing how many things I can pierce with a sharp stick, set ablaze and then fling as I watch them streak across the night sky. I made many little melty marshmallowy comets that shot up and quickly plummeted into the lawn where I’m sure a hill of ants is currently feasting. Fire also means the consumption of many, many Sam’s Summer Ales while I decide internally and then announce that surely the Rolling Stones designed each and every one of their songs for that moment of half naked drunken fire pit dancing. They so did. 

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