Decompression

Monday evening 3 August 2009

Jessy and I left after tea, drove down to the Ferry, had an expensive supper in the terminal and ended up on the boat as the sun was going down on the Bay. This is a rare sight and a lovely treat. We sat outside in the wind, still in our swimsuits with t-shirts on over them, inhaling of the rare southeast breeze that carried salt spray and took our hair apart. Then it was a long and somewhat exhausting drive down through eastern Maryland and into the Virginia peninsula. I have grown to dislike this part of the journey-- the Maryland state troopers are everywhere, I hate their brown cars, they have this stupid law than in a construction zone you have to switch on your headlamps, and the scenery, though green and pristine and beautifully rural, becomes monotonous. I chose the shore road and went off 13 directly after 175. Jessy was asleep and didn't notice a thing.

Now we are both home and back in our own rooms. The castle is dark and still and even cool-- Roger was over some time in the week and reset the air-conditioning and light and sprinkler timers and I feel like I don't even belong here. At once I flung up my windows to that sea breeze, took off all my clothes, and draped myself over the bed for a nap. But I could not sleep, and now I am typing.

Becky rang-- she's coming over tomorrow. Jessy thinks we should just greet her like we are and see what she says about it. She's heard, but never experienced it, you know. Maybe she will want to. I really don't mind. I have had half a mind (and not much else) to go for a dip in the pool tonight-- it's been so long since I've done laps. But there will be bugs out. The county sprays round here but I can see the bugs on my screens so I don't know when they were round last.

When we are alone in this house we never feel like eating. The last week we were here alone I lost two pounds. It's no use blaming Mother-- it's not that what she makes is so filling. She makes the best food she knows how to and I never eat more than I should, really. I just don't happen to eat when I don't have to. Besides there is nothing fresh to eat in this whole house. There's not even any milk.

My parents will be home on Thursday, and then on Friday evening we're having a little premature party for Jessy's 16th. Rita and Josie and everyone from our circle here will come. Jessy's birthday is really not till St Mary's Day, the 15th, but we'll be in England then. On Thursday the 13th our parents and our little ones will join us over there and we'll have another party with our friends from HOH. This is how it is in this house... we have multiple parties for everything.

Since Jessy did Lisa's hair for her party, Lisa asked if she can do Jessy's. And Jessy assented... so this will be interesting, probably even funny. Actually, in spite of being lush and gorgeous and capable of causing jealous girls to commit crimes in order to wish they had hair like hers, Jessy's hair is actually pretty easy to manage. It is naturally curly, so curly that you need to brush it wet, and as soon as you do it starts springing back. For the beach she just yanks it all back in a ponytail that looks like a plume of blondness. For a party she does the same, only with wetting it first, to buy more time before it springs back, and a bit of hairspray and/or some clips. Someone suggested she cut it once and there came that characteristic Jessy glare, when she looks at the poor cretin like he'd said the oddest thing anyone could ever have said. You might as well have said 'The Martians are eating your rice' as 'You should cut your hair short some time.'

Speaking of a plume of hair I just remembered why I wanted to type this. (I am in serious need of decompression. Please don't expect more blogs till we get to England!) I did delete the guy we met on the beach, who had recognised me from AOL. How had he known? There were literally thousands of blonde chicks in bikinis on the beach this morning! How he could have put two and two-- and two and two-- together is beyond me. I suppose it just goes to show how close I get myself to too much risk. It's a fascination I have-- I tend to wade into risky (risqué) situations just to see how well I can handle myself so close to the devil's lair. I have never really fallen-- oh, there have been time when I ought to have kept my mouth shut and times I really felt out of my depth-- but I am a good girl and there's no cause for worry. It's just that sometimes my own too-trusting nature gets me in a little further than is best for me.

One of the things I like to do when we're alone in the house is dress up, for no real reason, only because I can. Right now my hair is all put up on my head like it might be for prom or if I were going to a wedding. And I was standing in front of the full-height mirror wearing nothing but my cross charm and my good white church shoes, which are like 2-1/2" heels. And I called out to Jessy and asked her what she thought. She giggled and said I looked like I was modelling, and she brought in her camera and took some randy-looking photos of me. We loaded them onto my computer (and hers, to avoid using email) and I have been seriously wondering if I would ever have the guts to send them out. Well, they really are good pictures. And you know me-- I wouldn't pose too inappropriately. It's just that I'm not ashamed of myself, and I just wish we lived in a world where other people could appreciate a certain amount of beauty in being natural and innocent and cute. Maybe that's only a fantasy that I have.

I am glad I have Jessy to keep me grounded. And I am glad we have put four and a half hours between the AOL stalker creep and where we are safe and sound.

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