My Little Golden Book of Phobias

Holly and I (and Felix) are going to the ocean next week for two days. We're gonna eat in our room even tho we're not supposed to and we're gonna walk on the beach forever while the dog runs back and forth with a ball.

Last year I went to the beach with an (ex)girlfriend. We were sitting on the sand watching the waves and the dog and she said, 'I'm bored'. That's when I knew it was over. Really over. Bored? At the ocean?

My friends came for dinner tonight and we barbecued salmon and corm and I made chocolate dipped strawberries and shortbread with pecans and cold veggie soba noodles with roasted sesame seed oil and five spice. And ginger beer. And wine.

After, we did dishes and danced to Prince and the Temptations and Peter Gabriel. Pushed the couch out of the way. Threw dog toys out the back door for Felix so he could feel part of the merriment.

This morning, a guy came over and loaded up my old kayak on top of his car. The end of an era. I paddled in Glacier Bay in that boat. And in the Gulf Islands. I saw icebergs and bears and seals and sea lions and eagles and tidewater glaciers hundreds of feet tall. At night, in the freezing cold, I stood under the Northern lights and marveled at my life so far. Thank you, Sam, for taking me there.

Tomorrow is dance day and then writing day. I get to spend the afternoon with Betsy, who is funny and wise and apparently, an ariel yogini. She does flying yoga or some shit.