Claustrophobic Left Foot

My wife has a claustrophobic left foot. It's the only part of her that suffers from this mental malady. The left foot seeks out open space at night and must be above quilt level in order to breathe air and survive without medication. I've known this for a while and gotten used to it long before I was sleeping next to her, but tonight, put in those specific words, it struck us as particularly funny. So of course, I had to get up and write about it so as not to forget.

I cursed Blogger the other day because I lost a post, even though I was the nimrod who didn't save it in Word. It was about the wedding and the aftermath. Having typed it once, I don't think I'll succumb to over-achievement and type it again. So, here's the short version with some add-ons. We flew to DC. It was a lot of fun. Go to the Holocaust Museum and spend three hours for a life-changing experience. Really. Get in line early for free tickets. Okay, so I can't leave that alone. We went to the Holocaust Museum, and I didn't speak much for the rest of the day. Food didn't taste right anymore - not because I was sick to my stomach from gore, but because I didn't feel right eating food, or drinking water, or being excited about anything. I won't tell you I enjoyed it. In fact, I look back on what I know from the experience with great distaste and even hatred. It makes my toes curl up and my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth just thinking of the things I saw and heard. But I did need to see it, and it was.....something. It was spiritual on a level that I'm not sure I am beyond the feebleness of tongue enough to bear witness to. You really should go.

I hadn't ridden on a plane in a good while either. I recalled Lewis's Great Divorce as we lifted through the air and Tennessee faded from calico into a drab earthen blend of dark grey. It was like we were on the last bus to leave earth, and there we were sipping cranberry juice and eating snacks. It made me wonder if that's truly how I'll leave when I die - sitting in a small seat staring out the tiny window at the otherworldly view of clouds below me and a deep periwinkle sky growing darker above me. I wanted to stop the plane and get out to take a look around. I wanted to drink clouds from a glass - a Nimbus on the rocks, with a hint of lime. Or maybe a shot of Cirrus, as straight and cold as they come. Anyways, DC was great, and it was our honeymoon, so that's all I have to say about that. Even though I hate that word - 'Honeymoon', for some reason it conjures up pictures of Steve Martin having a horrible day. It was more like a getaway that we spent just enough time on.

So now I'm back on Earth and I just came in from staring at Venus through a pair of binoculars. All five of the planets that are visible with the naked eye are in the western sky until the middle of next week. Trouble is, there are several trees and a highway in the western sky too, but Venus climbed her way up until she was a handbreadth below Mars and as beautiful as ever. I'm not a great amateur astronomer, but I do like to imagine I can feel the earth turning and moving now and again. It's like the best rollercoaster ride they can make, only better.

I'm looking for a job at present. I'm not much for using this journal this way, but your prayers are appreciated. I'd love to see you at the shows. Info is on my MySpace site. See you soon over the rim of a warm coffee mug.