I've known this for years. But when I reviewed our Catalina pictures last night, this particularly tiresome fact was hammered home with particular violence. Kids, there will have to be some MAJOR editing before I even consider posting any photos here. I mean, I could mark the post as 'possibly containing offensive material', but I have vanity in my veins, and even that won't suffice. Anyway, I might grin, but you might not be able to bear it.
I mean. Where is the necessity of smiling? It does awful things to my face – makes my eyes small and my nose big. And yet it is always insisted upon. Who needs that? If I knew photoshop, I could put the head the head of an ass on my neck, a la Puck. And I could live with that.
What I will say is that our time in Catalina was a wonderful one – there were four of us in our party: your servant, boyfriend, my parents…and 12 pieces of luggage. And a surfboard. You know how cityfolk are, when they go a-travelin'.
The weather was glittering…I remember looking down onto the harbor Quite Early One Morning, and marveling how the silver water merged with a sky of the same silver. The sun heightened the color of an already colorful city – many of the buildings have their original tilework from the 1920's; those that don't have reproductions, based on the original designs.
Sunday night, we walked to the Casino, barely 1/2 mile. Lights from the ballroom shimmered onto the water, and christmas lights were draped around the upper terrace. Inside, it was marvelously festive – our table was right on the dance floor, in the inner sanctum, I like to think. This is what comes from making winter plans in the depths of summer.
It's not easy to pretend to ballroom dance, but we did. Boyfriend even taught me how to twirl correctly – I always twirled out, when a proper twirl…oh, never mind. It was just important that the twirl was accomplished - I had a red dress on with a full skirt: I had to take advantage of it.
Anyway, in the crush right before midnight one couldn't move to any great extent, anyway. We had positioned ourselves under the net of balloons, and when the clock struck, and the net opened, we were engulfed by colors and colors of balloonosity. After that, there were examples all around us of egregious Balloon Violence: people hitting and slapping them; stepping on them – everyone bent on balloon destruction. I saved five, tied them to a streamer, and brought them back to the hotel.
However, we decided that they were too cumbersome to take on the boat, so I draped them around the ceiling fan of our room. It seemed right.
Right. I'll end this, I think, with the only truly beautiful picture from this trip. I took it of this lovely blue heron, waiting patiently on the rocks outside the Casino for lunch to swim by:
Happy New Year, and may goodness follow all of us, from heron in.