My parents are in town, which has been a good visit. Last night my mom and I went to the the-a-tahr, which left me feeling like I was trying to swallow a furry kiwi fruit. Plays make me cry, but instead of just going with it, I let my face contort and convulse and my chin quake like the mouth is about to pass an alien baby, and hope no one tries to give me CPR.
Today we had lunch at the Brewhouse, and brought along one of those fresh faced wholesome college students who already has her shit together, a friend of the family. At one point she said "blah blah screw that ..." and I thought "WOW! We can say that in front of my parents! Let me try it!"
My mom and I wandered through the bowels of Fitger's, and my dad trailed behind us quietly, veering off here and there to look at the Patterson collection at a small bookstore, trail maps in the back of an outdoors store. I tried on a sweater and wished I was wearing a bra.
They came over for dinner. I made orzo with white wine cream sauce, and let my mom handle roasting the chicken so I wouldn't have to be burdened by pesky hand washing and, more accurately, awkward giggles about poultry cavities. Chuck and my dad discussed how to fix a dishwasher, and what high definition TV looks like and optimal screen size.
And, the definition of awesome, Jodi, my favorite person I've never met, sent me a Minnesota Reads goodie box filled with books I haven't read but look like books I'd read, cute little Minnesota Reads pins and cards, and an issue of Poets & Writers with Jay McInerney on the cover. This deserves a post of its own because writing for Minnesota Reads is my favorite writing stunt that I do, and Minnesota Reads is my favorite site on the whole Internet. Confession: I click on it every day at exactly 10 a.m. when I know the latest post goes live. I'm a total Minnesota Reads psycho stalker.