So today is August the 20th, in the year of 2010. Five years ago today, my husband asked me to be his girlfriend. Well, that language usage sounds kind of weird... of course, he was not by husband at the time... nowhere near it. The point is... we've been "together" (not married... still a few more days til the 6 month marker on that one... crazy) for 5 years. Jeepers... 5 years... that is a whole hand... five fingers... a whole lot of time that has just flown by. Anyway-- even though we agreed to not really "celebrate" the dating anniversary anymore (the marriage anniversary takes precedence now :-) ).... a whole hand is a big deal to me. So I decided to come down to Santa Monica and visit my husband for lunch at his work (Fandango.com). I actually drove to work with him this morning (trying to just worry about taking one car), then walked down the street to the local CBTL, had an iced tea latte, and read (one of) my current reads, Tinkers. The author writes so beautifully... very poetic (in my opinion, anyway). The perspective shifts back and forth between George (an old man who is dying) and his father, Howard, who suffered from grand mal seizures throughout George's childhood. Here is an excerpt from a part from Howard's perspective as he has to go off to work each day (he's the local "tinker," doing odd-jobs for the village and selling random things when he can) and worry about whether or not he will have a seizure:
"Your cold mornings are filled with the heartache about the fact that although we are not at ease in this world, it is all we have, that it is ours but that it is full of strife, so that all we can call our own is strife; but even that is better than nothing at all, isn't it? And as you split frost-laced wood with numb hands, rejoice that your uncertainty is God's will and His grace toward you and that
that is beautiful, and part of a greater certainty... And as the ax bites into the wood, be comforted in the fact that the ache in your heart and the confusion in your soul means that you are still alive, still human, and still open to the beauty of the world, even though you have done nothing to deserve it. And when you resent the ache in your heart, remember: You will be dead and buried soon enough. .............. [skip paragraph]
Such vanity! What gall to elect for yourself such attention, good or bad. Project yourself above yourself. Look at the top of your dusty hat: cheap felt, wilted and patched with scraps from the last wilted and patched felt hat. What a crown! What a king you are to deserve such displeasure, how important that God stop whatever it is He is tending and pitch bolts at your head. Rise higher, above the trees. Your crown is already hard to see amid the dust of the road and dirt of the ditch. But you are still remarkable. Rise higher, perhaps to the height where the blackbirds flap. Where have you gone? Oh, there you are, I think. That is you, isn't it, that wisp inching along? Well, rise higher, then, to the belly of the clouds. Where have you gone? Now higher, to where, if you are not careful, you might stub your toe on the mountains of the moon. Where are you? Never mind you; where is your home, your county, your state, your nation? Ah, there it is! And higher now, so that your hair and the lashes of your eyes catch fire from the sparks of solar flares. On which of those bright bodies do you rule your kingdom of dirt, your cart of soap? Very well, that one. I hope you are right---there is little need for a tinker on Mars. Now higher again, past the eighth planet, named for the king of the sea. And higher again, past the shadowy ninth, which for now only exists in the dreams of men back on-- Well! Where have you gone? Which among those millions of glittering facets is where you belong? Where is it you toil and drum and fall to the ground and thrash in the weeds?"
So yeah, I read some of that (good stuff). Then went and had lunch (yummy) with my dear. Then drove off in search of the hotel I booked a room at. Missed the hotel, got a little lost, turned myself back in the right direction, found the hotel, checked in, and here I am passing the time until I will go pick up Steven from work at 8 pm. The plan (if he isn't too exhausted) is to walk down to the Santa Monica pier and see what there is to see. I haven't been there since I was a baby... so I'm a little curious :-). Tomorrow we will (try not to) shop (too much) at the promenade. Then back home to spend my last Sunday relaxing before baaaack to worrrrrk. ::sigh:: Vacation? What vacation?
I decided to take pictures of our hotel room; it's a nice, cute lil room. Not that anyone cares... but like I said, it passes the time.
 |
| This is where I am blogging from... so professional |
 |
| Comfy bed... cute chair & lamps... cute pillows too ;-) |
 |
| oh good... there's the bathroom |
There are these old photographs of Santa Monica that are in frames on the wall. I love old photographs.
 |
| Santa Monica Pier... old school |
 |
| These are my kinda beach people ;-)... is it really so weird to be fully clothed at the beach?? |
