Random post-pizza thoughts on a freezing cold night at the beach:
It would be damned near impossible to get me to move back to San Francisco. This project excites me enough that I might think about it. For a few minutes.
Quick and glib analysis of the Hampton Roads area: The big military presence makes it feel simultaneously more cosmopolitan and less sophisticated than some other large Southern cities.
Norfolk proper seems a good bit livelier than it did four or five years back when I was here last. The Virginia Beach suburbs (as opposed to the oceanfront) and Portsmouth don’t.
I’ve lost lots of weight. The pizza tonight was OK, right?
Random thought I’ll write about later:
The parent-child relationship definitely reverses as the parents age. Everyone knows that. But for some of us, it also reverts and makes us feel behave like teenagers again, telling white lies and being generally sullen and resentful about things we shouldn’t have to do in middle age. Again, more on that in an upcoming rant.
…the beach in winter when it’s cold and rainy and deserted. And when I can get an oceanfront room with a balcony for less than I’d pay at the average suburban Red Roof Inn. Decorations optional.
I landed on Virginia Beach because I wanted that whole relaxing beach thing but also wanted a city nearby in case I got bored. Got my books, got my provisions from Kroger, and got my favorite traveling companion (that would be me) along for the ride. See you in a few days, if not before.
…and it will all mercifully be over. But it’s gonna be a long forty-eight hours.
This year, I skipped the whole gift shopping nightmare but there’s no escaping the assorted family pressure. Next year, I’m leaving town for the whole week and I don’t really give a damn how it goes over with anyone.
That said, I have gotten a lot done around the house this weekend and I’m otherwise In a pretty pleasant frame of mind. I’m just really not feeling Christmas this year. Aggressively, even…