Here I am at Silver Bay, a.k.a. "summer camp for grown-ups" (though not so grown up as to allow alcohol). I've gone sailing three times, kayaking once. I threw a pot (a bowl), read some blogs, read "Nickeled and Dimed: On Not Getting By in America" in its entirety. Have gone swimming every day (it's raining currently, but will probably stop later). Spent a lot of time making my niece laugh. Have eaten an ice cream cone every evening. Kicked some ass in shuffleboard. Stuff like that.
Today I am wearing my "Everybody dance like there's ass in your pants" tank top. At breakfast I sat with a couple in their 50s and a couple in their 60s, and the younger woman asked me if my shirt had any special meaning. Hard to explain briefly... so I said that it was from an online comic for adults, where the main characters are cats, and one cat is kind of a loser but he managed to write a hit song that made him millions, and this was the chorus of the song. Then we talked about our various jobs: The younger guy is in the Navy, and his wife is active in Quaker causes. The older guy was a courier for the Manhattan project. He told us that his first assignment was to watch the two young women directly across the street from the project's office, to make sure they weren't spies. So he was a peeping Tom for the government. They had a secret entrance from the subway station into their office, and were only allowed to have lunch out once a week, and only with an armed guard.
So many people here do amazing things, I often feel a little jerky about my "normal" career, working for a huge corporation. One friend is a midwife, one just spent a year volunteering in Nicaragua, one is an emergency room doctor, a couple are professors... When someone sheepishly tells me they work in finance, I am relieved. Not that my job is boring, it's just not saving the world, or actively trying to improve it. But I can help the world in other, smaller ways. (Like, say, foster some kittens .... still thinking about doing that, and cuteoverload keeps encouraging me...)
Gonna go surf the web until it's time to pick up the kid from a.m. childcare. Bye, my peeps.