It all seems very fitting that Martha and I start the first vacation we have had together in over six years on a Friday the 13th, doesn't it? I think so. Fuck it, right? Jasmine was born on a Friday the 13th and well, that has been a good thing. No matter, Friday is all I can think about even if it is suppose to rain.
I had been debating with myself on whether or not I would be doing Photo of the Day while I am "on the beach" but after thinking about it for a solid minute... I say "no". I would rather take photos and nap then have to photo edit for just one week of my life. Besides almost everyone who actually READS me is going to be WITH me. It will be reminiscent of...reality. Cha.
The RNC is three weeks away. Good lord, Martha and I did not plan this very well, did we? The Republicans come here when I get back and the hassle is going to suck any relaxation right out of me. Work is going to be a nightmare. The DNC wasn't bad but it also wasn't in our own backyard AND it wasn't the "enemy" (so to speak) stomping all around a city that cares more about state and local politics than what happens inside the beltway. Most of the residents of New York City have a tendency to hate whoever is running the nation anyway, but especially now. Now, the idea of blowing up our own bridges and telling the rest of the country to fuck off and go away is quite appealing.
Unpacking has been ongoing and will continue to be an ongoing process. Miss Martha did manage to build a four-drawer vertical filing cabinet on Saturday night. It was some seriously advanced build-it-yourself shit and even I was a little worried. The directions were so intense that no beer was consumed until well after the last drawer was built. But it looks great, doesn't wobble and now finally we can separate all of the arty-farty crap in my filing cabinet from the important household papers. We had been using my old filing cabinet for all of our shit but we could never find anything. Or it took forever and tempers usually...um...flared, I think would be the word there. Now peace and harmony should come to us via the filing cabinet. That is the dream anyway. It is good to dream.
Unpacking the office space with Jasmine's crap still in boxes all around is another bone of contention. I understand her frumpiness about this situation. She can't unpack and refuses to be "into" this space 'cause she is moving into a dorm room (a single one mind you) in four weeks. So she is living out of a closet. Could be worse, could be way worse. We could be living in a van down by the river. When I tell her that, she rolls her piercing baby blues at me (that God and I gave her, thank you very much) and then walks away. Yeah, I'm thinking a week in a beach house cooped up with that shit just might make me eager for the political climate of a citywide Republican/National Guard take over in late August. If you are going to be cranky, be cranky about something "real" for fucks sake. Not that politics is real but it is more real than home decorating.