jackson kicks ass*

it's coming up on 8:30 at night and i'm still at work. not cause i'm working like a dog but cause i'm waiting for k to arrive in nyc so we can have dinner and say over and over to each other, i can't believe next week we're finally espana-bound. and what kinda bathing suit will you bring?

last night i had dinner with a relative, an aunt, who's coming up this weekend on a monumental birthday. 100. i'm in awe of her. she had a beer cause her stomach was unsettled. usually she likes her dewars on rocks with a twist. she schooled me in the ways of scotch and once, when my friend s. came to brunch, s., who doesn't ever drink barely at all, only wanted orange juice, but my aunt would not accept it, could not understand it, the concept was altogether foreign...and insisted the juice come with champagne. s. tried in her sweet manner to demure. guess who won? a person doesn't get to 100 without a kind of awesome, enviable stubbornness.

so my aunt she said she had a story idea for me: that when furniture or decorative pieces reach 100, they're considered antiques and everyone oos and ahs. and when a person reaches that age, it's not the same. it's a fine idea but i'd like to write a book about her.

we spoke vaguely of love too. of the difficulty of saying it. she said she's found it difficult to say, and advised that when i find someone i want to marry not to be hindered and to say those words clear and loud. i told her i love her. that was pretty easy though i don't know if i have ever said it to her before. slowly, slowly we get better at these things.

* listening to that song now. and, as the hed says, jackson kicks ass.