Spending very little time online and only responding to time-sensitive emails. My internet connection is sketchy which is fine because I'm a bit weary of it all anyhow. Had some bad withdrawal symptoms this afternoon. Well, those weren't internet withdrawal symptoms, they were triggered from a hot dog. I eat like one hot dog a year and well, I think that's going to change from one a year to one a decade.
While Hurricane Bill hasn't hit the NC shores, it has affected the beach. We haven't been able to go in the water for the past two days and likely won't be able to tomorrow either. The waves are 10 and 15 feet high. It's amazing to watch. Today we took Gideon to the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse and he walked all 257 steps to the top. I underestimated him. I didn't make it all the way up. I was going up the hot-ass spiral stairs, crammed with breath-heaving people and stagnant air -- and some kid coming down looked at me and said, "you're almost half way there." I thought, only half way there? Fuck that. I turned around and went back down. According to Chris I was only 31 steps from the top.
If I ever find that little bastard . . .
I've been dreaming a lot about the ocean, waves, the heat, babies, fainting, cars, ultra-violet lights on an airplane, throwing a fit at Gideon's preschool and Christian spies bugging my hotel room at a feminist conference. The one thing almost all my dreams this past week have in common is some kind of gender motif. Can't we all just get along? On the upside, only three poets have appeared in my dreams since I've been down here, which is a really low number. One of those poets is a close friend, so its only two "random" poets. So this seems to be a vacation for my psyche as well.
It's good to disconnect, even if that means I have to barf up a hot dog.