Saturday, March 15, 2008

Cute as a Button

I like words. In fact, if you ask past boyfriends they might say "less talking, more action." But I like to think things through, figure stuff out, analyze possible outcomes, and then maybe, possibly act. At the moment, I can't form sentences to tell you how I feel.
Yesterday it was Hot (like a zipper - it'll catch on). And I sat in a classroom and heard thirteen different people talk. The room was hot, it was stuffy, it was filled with 100 other people. But I being the brilliant young lass that I am, I brought my bathing suit and a towel so that when my day of verbosity ended I could dash off to the beach for a quick swim.
I made two friends yesterday. You know how I knew we'd be friends? They were trying to explain to me who one of the guys was in our class and described him Dawson Leary - Dawson's Creek reference = Bosom Buddies. I, being the wiley wench that I am, convinced them to come to the beach with me. After a (very) brief swim, we decided to go out to dinner together. We laughed. We talked. We laughed. We told embarrassing stories, and shared our love for the irresistible Zach Braff. Perfection.

Today, my sister-in-law sent me pictures of my darling nephew, Weebbet. As I flipped through the 22 photos of his delicious cheeks and slightly Einsteinian hair, I cried. I wouldn't describe it as homesickness, because there is no where else I'd rather be right now then here in Melbourne.





But looking at that baby, I wonder if I should have sacrificed this happiness to be around when he ate his first bite of food, or when he takes his first steps, or for his birthdays. The answer is of clearly no. Boy, do I miss the little bugger.

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