Blogtober #12: Flashback Friday to Summer.

No, this post isn’t necessarily about fall, although the last day of my trip occurred in September. But we’re flashbacking today, so it’s all good. Anywho, this past Labor Day weekend, I left on a jet plane to visit a good friend of mine who lives in Orange County, CA. Despite the fact that it was a short trip/brief vacation, it was also the respite I needed and thoroughly welcomed. We haven’t had an in depth discussion of my enduring love of California, have we? Well, if I had all the dollar dollar bills in the world, your Square Peg would hightail it to San Diego faster than you could say high cost of living. (Which is why I chose Texas instead of my beloved blue sky San Diego.) See below for a slide show of my fun trip.

Happy Fall Friday, y’all. See ya on the weekend.

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it is advisable that we not remain friends.

I wrote this in 2012. Stuff was happening back then. These days, my quiet life is unencumbered by angry poems about silly boys. (Primarily because I’m married to Idris.) Happy Friday.

it is advisable that we not remain friends.

i will sabotage your efforts.

you will bring this new girl to me,

forgetting that our failed transition from

friends to something more is as fresh as the

gash you created on my heart,

and you will ask me that silly question of

“what do you think?”

and i will respond about her niceness and pleasantness

and casually mention that hopefully her meanness

will go away,

and you will wonder about this meanness you hadn’t

seen before, and i will assure you

that women know women, and i see it there, that meanness,

lurking right alongside her lazy eye and her obvious materialism.

and i don’t want to do this to you.

so don’t bring her before me, ok,

and don’t bring her up, and don’t suggest

this friendship that we obviously can never have.

just let me tend to my poor, weak heart, and

just keep away from me.

or, rather, stay over there,

close enough where i can see you,

but far enough that my poor heart and i

can pretend you’re no longer there.

kiss me like you mean it. (no, please don’t.)

When I arrived, I wanted to kiss the ground. Yet, I refrained. Possible hepatitis by way of the ground, even the French kind, is still hepatitis.

Anyway. Other places I wanted to kiss, but didn’t, because my rabid love of Paris didn’t mean I was crazy:

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I wanted to kiss the triangle things at The Louvre, but I didn’t, for purely security reasons. See that old monsieur photobombing me, by the way? To my right? Mm hmm.

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I wanted to kiss The Mona Lisa, but had already been shoved by an old lady who wanted to take a photo (I believe that’s her violent head) and was a bit concerned at being punched in the throat if I dare touched the painting with my lips.

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I wanted to kiss Versailles, but it’s Versailles. How much kissing would it take? Years? That place was gigantic. And lovely. And beautiful. And luxurious. And lovely. I said that. I’ll end this now.

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I wanted to kiss those Swiss mountains and that Swiss sky, but…isn’t it all incredible? Just beautiful.

Day One - France

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I wanted to kiss those verdant hills and endless mountains (more mountains!) in Pontarlier, but, alas, that bar I’m standing next to kept me from physically doing this. Thank goodness.

French Countryside 2

 

 

One more. Goodness. Lush. So deserving of basisers sans fin (endless kisses).

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I wanted to kiss the Eiffel Tower, but a random backpack left by the site that resulted in no one getting to come closer because of security issues meant I had to see it from afar on a riverboat tour. Nevertheless, awesome view, right? And this riverboat tour was on The Seine! Doesn’t get better than that…

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I wanted to kiss the amazing friends who drove me around, took me on endless tours, fed me, laughed with me, and generally loved me up during one of the best trips of my life.

And I did.