Forget deviled eggs. For me, on this May Day, this is the spring of cupcakes.
Last night, my friend Courtney brought over two platefuls of some of the best cupcakes I’ve ever had. They are mint chocolate chip, and taste exactly like the ice cream flavor, just that perfect. Plus, the cupcake AND the frosting are both to die for, which, as fellow cupcake lovers know, is something that rarely EVER happens. I had two last night and contemplated having one for breakfast before my sense—and awareness that I did not eat well on the book tour, and must do so now—kicked in. Still, though, I will be having one after lunch. Or maybe two.
The cupcakes were only the latest, greatest thing about being back home and getting settled in to my boring and beloved routine. I spent most of the last three days doing laundry, winning back the affection of my dogs, and trying to speed watch everything on the Tivo, as my husband keeps threatening to delete stuff after I go to bed. Okay, so maybe I don’t NEED to have seven 90210 episodes on there. Maybe I won’t get to them all, or to the three 8th and Oceans, or all those So Notoriouses. But I might! It could happen! I don’t know why I tend to cling to stuff like this, terrified to delete. But in my defense, 90210 is not on DVD, so if I get rid of these episodes—the first summer of the show, when Brandon’s working at the beach club, so good!—I’ll have to wait at least another year until I see them again. It’s the same reason I can’t bring myself to delete the last episode of the series. Aaron Spelling, this is my plea to you. Please put 90210 on DVD, because it might just save my marriage. Thank you.
The flip side of coming home to so many saved shows? Getting to watch TWO back to back new Gilmore Girls on Friday night. Total bliss. I have to say that yes, I did tear up at Lane’s wedding—especially at the end, when Lorelei zipped off the bottom of her dress, so cute!—and that I am still a Logan fan, even more so now, even, that he’s all beat up and pathetic. The whole subplot with April’s mom I just don’t know what to do with, because how could ANYONE not like Lorelei? It’s impossible. I can’t believe there are only, like, two more episodes to the season. And then what will I do? Watch 90210, I guess. Which is great, but just not the same.
Meanwhile, thanks to all of you who came out on the tour, and went to your local bookstore to seek it out, Just Listen continues to do very well: as of this week, it’s back to number 5 on the bestseller list. That makes it three weeks, which is as long as the How to Deal tie-in book was on it, so anything more is just gravy. I still can’t believe ANY of this has happened, from the list to the tour to all the people that came out. It just seems like one long, crazy wonderful blur, especially now that I’m back home. But then I look at my pictures and see that I have proof.
Better even than the pictures, though, are the things I DIDN’T document, which flit back into my brain as I’m folding clean clothes, or standing out on the deck yelling for the dogs to come in. Stuff like the woman I saw in the ladies room at the Detroit airport, standing in her underwear in front of the blow dryers, drying her pants, which she’d spilled something on. People were coming and going, the typical terminal bustle, and she’s just there in her panties, cheerful as can be. “Excuse me!” she kept saying as people passed, giving her odd looks. “Have to get out the stain, you know?” I kept thinking if I had to choose between 1) having a stain on my pants or 2) standing in my underwear in a public bathroom, I’d probably just deal with the stain. But that’s just me. And then there was driving around Boston, totally lost, with my cousin AnnaMo, doing a year’s worth of catching up as we took wrong turns, got stuck in Fenway Park traffic and saw, completely accidentally, much more of the city than I would have otherwise. Or walking through Muir Woods, in the mist and the quiet, feeling a million miles away from the city and even the world, everything just silent and towering all around me. And finally, seeing the sun come up on my first flight, the morning I left, headed to Atlanta….and then looking out another plane window, at the sun setting, balanced in red and pink across the sky, on that last day as we neared RDU and home.
There are a million more, I’m sure, that I hope will come back to me as I’m here laying low, resting up for the next wave of stuff I have to do: some more local appearances, one in Charlotte, in Greensboro, and then BEA in D.C. But I have some time before all that happens, just enough, I hope, to remember everything else. And, of course, to watch all those shows and get caught up, just to fall behind again. Thank goodness the summer is long. I think I’ll need it.