This little monkey has a story.
This little monkey's story is different for everyone.
This little monkey wants YOU to write a story.
Do it for the monkey, in 500 words or less.
Do it by tomorrow morning.
The monkey thanks you. I thank you.
Check out International _____ Day today, written by yours truly. Actually, you should check it out every day. The people who write there are pretty darned clever, and might even give you excuses to act poorly with impunity!
In other news from around my world, I would like to share with you that I had a wonderful, spectacular, fabulous weekend.
Dinner at Turtle Soup capped off a Saturday of traipsing around Newport, poking around the streets and geeking at the town and tourists. Even for the weekend after Labor Day, the streets were packed with cars, scooters, and these cool little "scooter coupes" that looked perfect for taking the kiddies for a ride on a nice day. All the tourists must have been there for all the half-off end-of-summer sales or something.
Cerulean blue sky, terrific ocean breeze (how I miss the ocean...), no agenda, no kids, no curfew, no responsibility.
Like being young again.
Walk, talk, walk, talk, shop, don't buy, walk, talk, window shop, talk, walk. We were headed toward a good seafood place at the far end of town. However, it was open only for dinner, so we backtracked a block and had lunch at O'Brien's, right on the main drag. I think it was for the best, because O'Brien's is cool, with tables outside, enormous burgers, lush wraps, and quite possibly the best french fries in the ENTIRE WORLD! Who needs anything else when there's a mound of hot crisp 'tater stix waiting to be salted and eaten? Not me. Well, maybe a beer....
After lunch, there was more walking, talking, a quick stop at the "Bite Me Bait Company" for some tee shirts, then we headed back to the car and wound our way around the side streets, discovering neightborhoods that actually look like people live there. There were tons of funky-cool places to hang out, but we were on a mission to "do" some of the Cliff Walk.
And whoa, nelly, the Cliff Walk. Free! Breezy! In the backyard of all those mansions! LOOOONG! So very New England. Walk, talk, you know the drill. We passed some people taking siestas on the tremendous stretches of lawns that run from the back doors of the great houses right down to the Cliff Walk, sunbathers and tired hikers, young people mostly, taking their time on a late summer afternoon to soak in some rays, replenish their vitamin D stores, and be right in a perfect moment in time.
Seriously, I felt like we were in a movie, or a teevee ad. Walking around Newport, and especially on the Cliff Walk, was THE most perfect thing we could have done on that particular day at that particular time.
Do you ever feel that way? Like what you're doing at a particular moment is just exactly right? Isn't it great?
Anyhow, after our perfect moment we experienced a little hesitation at what to do next. No agenda means no plan which means that 2 slightly middle-aged yet still awesome ladies who are used to the clock ruling their lives were getting a little dense as to how to fill the time. What to do when you're not used to not doing much? Why, drive around some more! Get some gas! Poke around other neighborhoods, and talk. Always talk. So much to talk about. 500 miles of separation for many months means lots of talking. Never a lack of that.
At length, it was decided to head to Narragansett and the aforementioned Turlte Soup, to hang out on the deck (for an hour while waiting for our 2-top! insane!) sipping cocktails and talking while watching the ocean and people having dinner and young children turning somersaults on the grassy inn lawn.
Always, always, talking.
And even with all that talking, and all the talking done on Friday and Sunday, and all the stories shared and ideas parsed, it wasn't enough. Not enough time to fully engage with the crowd of former coworkers who graciously had lunch with me on Friday (plus a couple of surprise guests! How cool!). Not enough time to see everyone at my former workplace that I wanted to see, or enough time to talk with those I did see. Not enough time before catching a jet to stretch out on Sunday morning and fully explore politics or theology or current events or any one of a million topics that cold have led to any one of a million more topics, creating a web of conversation in which to wrap up the experience.
So, I think the only thing for it is to go back. Soon.
Because there's just so much MORE I need to talk about, with those who know me best and still love me anyhow.
Thanks for having me, RI Red. You're a peach, and I had a ball.