I Wanna Live Here!!!!!!!!!!!

Saturday!Saturday!Saturday!Saturday!
There's a song that repeats the words Saturday but I don't know who sings it...It's drilling in my head right now. Saturdays are so full of promise and over much too quickly. I like to begin mine upstairs at the computer where the window looks out over my neighbor's roof and her wooded back yard. Maybe I'll take a picture later. The sun streaming through the trees is pretty. My deck overlooks a wooded area also - the best thing about this house is the feeling you get that you're not in the city. I have nothing against city life (love it actually) I just don't like it here in Bubbaville.
I ran into Clara yesterday while I was trolling for bargains at Michael's where they have the best dollar gift bargains for anyone into Mary Englebreight paper goods. Clara used to do my hair when I was into the weave thing. I HATE absolutely hate fussing with hair. Well she's retired now and working for a non-profit which she loves. We talked about my wish to live in Boston or at least New England. She gave me hope that a second life is possible. I don't know how. I don't know when but I'm keeping hope alive. Boston is in my blood and it won't go away.
Looking at pics online at NECN Video New England this morning and I thought to myself, "You wanna move where?????" But yeah. Something about facing all that adversity makes me feel very alive....the thrill of pushing a bus in Saugus, making it home in a whiteout, 90 mph winds in Cape Cod, suicide runs on sandy salty highways. How do they stay in the right lane????? Hmmmmmm.... I muse over the question; what would a beach baby like myself do in that environment? Got this nifty shot of Newburyport, a place I'd read about and thought would be great to live there.

To all those snowbunnies in MASS.....From the NYC Metblog....A Bit of Advice

I really hate this time of year. It's so needlessly stressful for everyone. Holiday shopping, deadlines, snow shovelers fighting over sidewalk boundaries. I've even caught my cat sipping from his little flask to take the edge off.
So, everyone: Just cool it! Literally. 'Tis the season for getting fat and having lots of stuck-indoors sex. Let's get with the program!
I was supposed to go walking in the park and then spend the day with Janet but she just called to say she's going to her pt (a caterer) job to set up for a party. Janet always cancels plans. It's annoying as hell! But at least she did it early enough that I can get on with the rest of my day. The sun is out and I should be out as well.

True Story

This happened a long time ago in Miami. There was a Jefferson's Department store on Biscayne and I was in there around Christmastime. I was looking in a jewelry case and I really hadn't noticed the man next to me. He asked me if I liked the watch I was looking at. I said "yeah, of course." It was a nice watch. Not gold encrusted with diamonds or anything; just a watch that I couldn't afford. And when you can't afford a popsicle it might as well be caviar, right. The man bought me that watch and said Merry Christmas. I never asked his name and he didn't ask mine. So what does this story mean. I really don't know. But I do know that I'm a lot older and nice things happen less and less in my life these days. For a long time, I waited for Christmas to roll around because it was the only time in the year that I felt like magic was possible, that just maybe a little magic would come my way. I don't sit around feeling sorry for myself. I even help it along. I decorate. I watch A Christmas Carol (the old version), I burn cinnamon candles and light the tree. I listen to Christmas carols. I wait and so far, no stranger. No watch. No magic.