Friday, July 13, 2007

pink raft

This past weekend was, how shall I say it? Not what I expected.

I go through phases of feeling friendless. Though, truth be told, I have many wonderful friends. Distance, children, jobs and sheer flakiness keep us apart. This past Saturday, all those things came together in a way that resulted in: I had no plans. So, I made a plan. If I plan to sit by the pool all day reading my pile of books, then I am actually doing something. So that was it. The plan was made.

I packed up my books, put on an old ratty swimsuit, foregoing a shower, as it would just be me. I read for a little while, warming up under the sun. Then, I pulled out my new pink raft I'd just picked up at the drugstore. Truth be told, it is the first raft I have ever bought. I have always relied on the kindness of others for my rafting needs. I blew that thing until my cheeks were stinging and I was light headed. Just as I put my new pink raft in the pool, and readied myself to join it, I heard cars pulling up the drive.

Family members of the home owner, and entourage had decided to utilize the pool; again. (They'd already taken over the 4th of July.)

There I was, not really in a position to be seen. I scurried home to make myself slightly more presentable. I returned to the pool, not quite knowing what to do with the rest of my day. I sat and tried to make conversation....which lasted about 5 minutes. I wasn't really part of the group. All manner of negative things popped into my head. I won't repeat them. I will say I am terribly jealous of the niece, who had a lovely wedding in her 20's, married to a great guy and they've just recently added a daughter to their household. She has everything I have ever dreamed of; so when her husband jumped in the pool and lounged on my new pink raft, it was too much.

I said good bye, and slunk down to my cottage with a little Eeyore cloud following me. I tried to read, but reading on my couch on a lovely summer day felt so, well, uncomfortable. Then I dozed a little. Finally, I called a friend in the city, and though we had plans for Sunday, we switched things up and decided I'd drive down and have dinner with her, the new boyfriend and his visiting friend.

Off I went, with some nebulous plan of dinner with friends and strangers. About 20 minutes into my drive, I get a phone call. Can I pick up the guys on my way into the city? They've biked over the Golden Gate Bridge and missed the ferry by minutes. Um, sure. I'll pick them up. Two men I've never met, and two bicycles. I would fit them in my car; along with the bag of clothes I brought not knowing what kind of evening to dress for, the blanket, towel, sleeping bag and pillow that seem to permanently live in my trunk, because you never know when the camping bug will hit. Oh, and about 6 jackets and sweaters that never made it back in the house. And some books. Somehow, after much tugging and such, we latched the trunk and were on our way.

Some very scandalous driving later and a rendezvous to pick up the friend, and we wound up at a crepe house, eating copious amounts of food. It was a lovely evening. I forgot about my new pink raft and savored the moment.

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