Saturday is for sucking

I have the post-vacation blues creeping around in my thoughts and whispering under my skin.
I want to go back.
I want to never leave here.
I want to lick the skin of a wise man.
ok, just a wise-ass.
I woke up at 4:30 this morning.
It felt right.

I would like to find the person responsible for the presence of Kool-Aid in my home.
I would like to tie this person to a tree.
I would like to pour Kool-Aid all over this person.
I would like to unleash a thousand angry bees on this person.
...I don't know if bees sting things covered in sugar, but I'm hoping.

I have my pictures nearly ready.
I'm uploading them to a snapfish site.
I'm terribly impressed with my photographicalistic talents.
I have 50 or 60 really beautiful shots.
I might have taken over 300 pictures...

I need to start a few more sentences with "I".
...just a few more.

I should shower.
But I don't want to
because it won't penetrate my skull, my skin, my SPLEEN.

I'm glad to be home.
I have fun things to look forward to.
I want to go back, and do the trip differently.
I want to rent a car instead take the trains--
it would have been about the same cost, but everyone insisted that Eurail was SOOO easy to use.
APPARENTLY I'm a moron, then.
Whatever.
We saw all the sights we went to see,
and that made my Mom happy.
Me?
aw, come on...am I ever satisfied?
I would wink at you right there, if I could wink.
...and if you could see me.
but I can't and you can't so whatever.
I would not really go back and do it differently.
Just one day.
One mixed up, wrongwrongwrongNotright day.
I would take that day, that night, and I would lay them out flat on a large table.
I would step back and look at the contents, the order, the outcome.
I would reevaluate, adjust, tweak--negate.
But other than that, it was lovely.
It was heady and wild and exhausting.
Wonderful...

I'm sorry I'm so out of it.
I think I sound like I'm not happy...
but that's not accurate.

I lost 4 more pounds while I was gone.
Eating croissants for breakfast and eclairs for dessert--
THAT'S how much exercise I was getting.
I loved it.
I did not, however, love forgetting to put on my deoderant.
I think it was a subconscious desire to fit in...
ha.
I never even noticed anyone's B.O., so that was a total stereotypically derived joke.
and it was probably only funny to me.

I think I'll go watch the rest of Harry Potter 4.
And keep reminding myself that kid's 17 now so it's ok if I leer.
Oh shut up.