Let it snow
January 8, 2005Ruby Bay, New Zealand
6:41pm
Life returns to normal. At least normal for the time being. In fact I have no idea what normal is anymore. It isn’t what we left. It isn’t what we are living. Perhaps living like we were back home, with NZ in the back pocket of our hearts will be our version of normal. Perhaps normal is overrated and nothing to strive for. Perhaps salt and peppering your life with completely bizarre and random events is how life should be lived. Perhaps the unpredictable should be the predictable. Although I do miss the comfort of knowing what was next. Knowing that the pay cheque was going to be deposited in my dwindling account on the first and the fifteenth of every month. I guess it’s easier when you are younger to feel the gentle thrill of wanton bohemia. Don’t get me wrong; it’s nice as a balding pudgy man of 36 as well. But the echo of responsibility is bouncing back from the canyon wall. I can feel it. Steph can feel it. Hud, well, he likes playing with trains in his Incredibles underwear.
If the weather was any better, my guess is we would be on the first plane back home. I know that sounds bizarre, considering we just spent the last six hours at a market, a craft fair, swimming in a see through river and then letting the chilly surf blanket our tanned bodies at the beach. Pretty sweet yes. It’s just the pot on the back burner, the one on low, the one just starting to get hot, water just starting to look like Sprite, the one you are going to have to deal with sooner rather then later. I am glad I am not the only one of the group feeling this way. My peaks and valleys have already been documented in this journal and even I am sick of myself sometimes. Although I am spectacularly good looking. And have a penis the size of Florida.
The fact that family and friend were here over the holidays was another reminder of the life we have back home. It also was a real wake up in regards to how much time Steph and I spend together, and how well we get along. It even got better and better as the trip progressed. We get along better now then we ever have, and we got along pretty well before. I thought once all the distractions were gone, the work, the nanny pick ups, the Alice poo clean ups, the dinner/cocktail/birthday/engagement/I’m thirsty parties, she would just stare at me blankly and pack her belongings in a red kerchief, tie it on a stick and book. Nope. She digs me. And I dig her. She’s the mack.
So the novel progresses, Hud starts swimming lessons tomorrow, and we have two and half weeks until we get back on the ferry and slowly move up the North Island, including a stop back in Whangamata to visit some cool people we liked.
I will try not to think about March 15th too much.
Love to all,
J.
posted by Jason @ 10:16 PM
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