So I’m back, after an incredibly relaxing nine days away. I came home with a bit of a sunburn, feeling entirely mellow…at least until I saw the number of emails waiting for me, and piles of laundry needing to be done. It’s amazing how much can accumulate in one week or so. Fifteen pages of friends requests on my MySpace page? God help me. There should be some sort of decompression process for after vacation, where you get to EASE back into your life instead of such an abrupt shift of gears. On the upside, my friend Courtney left half a chocolate creme pie in our fridge, which I declared I would NOT be eating before, of course, crumbling entirely an hour later and digging right in. Diet starts today, though. After a week or so of shrimp burgers, onion rings, DQ sundaes and everything fried, I need it. Bad.
One sad note about my vacation (other than my speeding ticket, which I am still upset about. Should I go to court? Just pay the fine? Anybody?) was that the first day, I had to have a moment of silence when I lost one of my very favorite flip flops. Here’s how it happened: we were walking from our hotel, over to visit some friends, and instead of taking the long way, decided to go with a shortcut down this really steep dune. My husband made it down no problem, but both of my shoes came off, getting stuck in the sand. I grabbed one immediately, but the other was just….gone. Gone! Lost in the sand, in literally a matter of seconds. I sat there, digging, for ages, but could not find it, which just made no sense to me, which was why I kept digging. My husband kept saying, “Honey, it’s just a flip flop. We’re at the beach. You can get another pair.” But he didn’t understand. These were my very favorites, a gift from my friend Dana. Black havaianas, perfect and basic, they went with EVERYTHING. They were also the only pair of shoes I had at the beach, other than my Dansko clogs, which are not exactly sand friendly. Finally, after digging for ages (and recruiting my friend Carla to help me) I gave up. It was gone.
The next morning, we set out to find a replacement pair. My husband figured this would take no time at all. Only after we’d been to several stores, finding only black flip flops that were beaded, or had pink polka dots, or some similiar adornment, did he begin to get it. “This is crazy,” he said, after the third or fourth place. “How hard is it to make a plain black flip flop?” To which I said, “Now you know why I was digging in the sand for an hour last night! They were SPECIAL!” Finally we found a pair of black Tevas which, while not my Havaianas, were moderately acceptable. Sad truth? I still have the one surviving Havaiana: I can’t throw it away. Which is so stupid, because what’s going to happen? The other one will just appear at my doorstep one day, like those dogs you hear about that walk for miles, looking for their famillies? I think a reunion is unlikely. But still, I can’t seem to let go. So ridiculous.
Now, I have to run and run errands. But before I go, I’ll say this: Gilmore was good, but not great to me. Veronica Mars premieres TOMORROW NIGHT, on the CW. Project Runway reunion show? Cannot wait. I think Ugly Betty is my new favorite show. And I blew through all of Season Two of Grey’s Anatomy while at the beach, and have two episodes waiting for me here at home which I can’t wait to watch. Fall is officially here, even if it is still flip flop weather in these parts. Bring it on!