1. I hate antiques. My personal hell would be a Bed and Breakfast teeming with old dolls and dusty shelves and dingy vases. Not only am I very allergic to antiques, but I'm also really creeped out by the history that lingers around them. I'm kind of sensitive that way. My mom used to take me to Williamston, MI down Grand River from where we lived in Okemos, and there were some fascinating antique places there, but I always felt like I needed an exorcism and cortizone shot afterwards. Please put me up in the Hampton Inn, not the Daintywood B&B. Thank you.
2. I've always gotten green and orange confused. Even now I'll be throwing Rubi her green octopus toy thinking "Is this green or orange?" It's funny, too, because green is my favorite color. I never, ever wear orange. Lately I've been wondering if I should get a yellow shirt. But I digress.
3. I'm kind of afraid to go back to Chicago, though it looks like I'll be able to go back for a wedding next month (which is really cool, since my folks will be watching the kids). I've always had a strange relationship with Chicago. I lived there for eight years as a kid, in the city and south suburbs, then moved back for eight more years in the late 90's. But then we moved here two years ago and I haven't been back since. When I move, I mean it. Once in a while I'll flip through channels and see WGN and feel all dizzy and confused. So much for the clean break, the cold turkey. There are a lot of things I miss about Chicago (O, good Mexican food!). When we go back I'm going to sneak through our old alley and take a peek at my former perennial garden, which is probably a jungle by now. I just hope it isn't too much of a shock to my psyche.
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6 comments:
Okemos?
I lived in Jackson and around it for a long time during my miserable formative years.
Are we related or something? Besides the dog bond I mean.
Keith, I think we just might be.
There's that poetry thing too...
:)
Funny about the B&B's. I hate them too (though I like some antiques). I always feel like I'm staying at some judgemental grandmother's house, and there is zero privacy. It's the opposite of romantic to me...
Louise, you totally summed the feeling up with that grandmother comment! The small talk, the breakfast at which I'm inevitably hung over and feeling grumpy...oh my.
I think I do like some antiques, like depression glass and old lanterns and wooden furniture. Maybe.
I love antiques and hate B/B's. Every one I've ever seen was thrown up (intentional) by someone with no color sense.
I left Chicago 35 years ago when I went off to Grad school, and only returned for weekends and conferences--but when I think of "home" I think of the lake and the beaches and walking through Humboldt Park. The place had a definite sort of feel that has the look and taste of home.
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