I’m doing the whole sitting-in-a-coffeshop-with-dwindling-minutes-left-on-the-battery-and-no-visible-outlets thing, so this will be a brief note, mainly to announce that I’m alive and fine, just not posting a lot. Z and I are back in Cincinnati, moving him into his gorgeous Northside apartment. I’ll be here for a bit over a week before leaving him to the midwest and heading back to Razorback country. I’m suffering a typical kind of midsummer malaise, aggravated by the reappearance of Long-Distance Relationship Land1 on the horizon, as well as my impending 29th birthday, which is annoying because as far as I can tell there is nothing at all remarkable about a 29th birthday, except perhaps for the fact that it’s the last birthday one is supposed to let pass unremarked-upon before a remaining lifetime of bitching and moaning about not being in one’s 20s anymore.
I’ll come back later when I have a power source and something to, you know, say.
1Despite the passing resemblance of its name to those of such theme parks as Disneyland, Legoland, and the thoroughly fascinating Dinosaur Adventure Land (Where Dinosaurs and the Bible Meet!), Long-Distance Relationship Land is, I assure you, no fun. For one thing, there are no rides. There could be hot dogs and Sno-Cones, I suppose, but there is no boyfriend around to prepare and fetch such delicacies, so they are essentially negligible. And there are definitely no dinosaurs, made of Legos or by God or otherwise. No, this desert isle where I pass the school year is a lonely, desolate personal wasteland with nary a cannibal or a puppy to help me pass the time. So, like, feel sorry for me and stuff.