Staying over at Elizabeth's scares me because I like it so much. I feel like she is a "kindred spirit", not in the feeling-crystal way, but the type Anne Shirley would talk about. Instead of cherry cordial, let's try wine and Sierra Nevadas. I can see myself living like this after I finish being confused about my life and taking it out in a physical manner.
Last night was movie night, and coincidently, we watched The Three Amigos. I think the first time I saw it I was around Graham's age. It made me wonder at what time did I actually start understanding the storyline? Did it even matter? Elizabeth made dinner and we sat around the table eating so many vegetables, and then topped it off with tofutti cuties, those tiny ice cream sandwiches.
Graham running around the front room with his pants off and a viking mask on, lunging at me with a foam weapon was about the funniest thing around. I think the zoo is happening on Saturday.
I'm soaking up so much at this house, but the way it comes out in writing seems so cliche. The fact that I just wrote that seems like a cliche in itself.