Let Me Catch You Up

(1.)

I'm back in Maine.

(2.)

I just realized--just this second, this very instant!--that I have two long black hairs growing out of a mole on the side of my face.

(3.)

Josh has a new website. He's going to write funny things. He's going to make important observations. He's going to grossly misunderstand the plot of The Notebook and make all womankind roll their eyes at him.

(4.)

I have recently come into the knowledge that my boyfriend--AKA: The Lady-Killer, or, if you are Diana Joseph, Mr. Deeds--loves olive loaf as much as I do. There was a long line at the deli when we were out shopping last week, and I scuffled over to get some prepackaged lunch meat so we could avoid loafing in front of the deli case for fifteen minutes.

"What do you like for sandwiches?" I asked TLK. "Bologna? Roast beef? Turkey?"

TLK's face turned dreamy, and he stared off into the distance. "You know what I love?" he asked.

"What?"

"That lunchmeat... the one that's stuffed with..."

"OLIVES?" I said.

His attention focused back on me. "YES!" he said.

And then we jogged back to the deli for our olive loaf.

Clearly, it was fated that we get together.

(5.)

Because I am dating a boy who is younger than I am and not from my discipline--a discipline where boys wander around muttering words like pedagogy, discourse, and chapbook--certain words have begun creeping their way into my vocabulary. Words like DUDE! and EPIC! and SICK!

I've also begun to yell "Ling-Ling!" at things because we've been watching an awful lot of Drawn Together.

(6.)

Lately, I don't even know who I am. Well, that's not true. I know who I am, but I wonder what person snuck into my room late at night and gave me a quickie lobotomy so that I no longer worry about having the dishes or vacuuming or dusting done every few days.

If given the choice between getting up and cleaning the living room or, say, lounging in bed until 2:00 PM ("I'm surprised you haven't developed bed sores," Christine told me this week), I choose the latter.

It's liberating. It's heaven.

This is a good summer.