The parents have left the building.
I love them, and we had a wonderful time, but I felt drunk--drunk I say!--with freedom after dropping Kathy off at the airport yesterday morning. (Bob left on Saturday, as he is going to Alaska to catch fish with some buddies.) I had started to panic on Saturday, after a solid week of couch-surfing and zero privacy. I never knew how much my bedroom meant to me until it was gone. After Kathy left, I spent the whole of Sunday afternoon blissfully puttering.
We had a great time though. Kathy and I went to see Spellbound, that documentary about the National Spelling Bee. It was so funny and good! I cried! (I really did. I'm not much of a crier in real life these days, but I blubber like a big fat baby at the movies.) The movie brought home three salient points for me, which were:
1. Thank god I will never be 13 again.
2. Thank god no one was standing around with a video camera recording me for posterity when I was 13.
3. Social class makes all the difference. It really does. Don't kid yourself.
During the previews for our film, I learned that they have made a movie about They Might Be Giants. And I'm sorry, but it looks awesome and hilarious and I don't care who knows that I am going to be first in line to see it. So there. (Also, the audience at the Guild 45th in the U District cheered at the TMBG preview. All hail Seattle, City of Dorks!)
Saturday night we went out for S's big fat birthday. He is twenty-eight years old. They grow up so fast, these kids.
Kathy really let her hair down at the birthday dinner. She tried sushi for the first time, and on the way home (after I said "crap" in response to someone else's bad driving), she told me that she thinks it's okay to say the "S"-word. She even says it herself sometimes! She doesn't think it's the worst curse word. (Still unsure what that worst word might be. Your guess is as good as mine.)
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