How is it almost Christmas? I still can't get over the fact that I feel like we were just arriving at Halloween, but here we are somehow in December???????? I am not ready..........
Marc has been sick for two days, which is such terrible timing before his marathon this Sunday. I took the kids out last night with friends Lori and her crazy *crazy* husband, Michael, their daughter, Olivia, and another couple to whom they introduced us, plus their 3 daughters. We all went out to dinner and on to a place called Tara Plantation. Tara Plantation is a huge law office complex here in town where a self-proclaimed "Christmas Junkie" begins over Labor Day weekend decorating the offices with lights, trees, wreaths, and holiday paraphernalia. It was a sight to behold and the kids were in awe of the attention to detail. Each room a different theme of trees, lights, music, several trains, and larger than life Nut Crackers and St. Nicks. I think they ate their weight in cookies, too.
The weeks have been busy with the usual commitments. Last weekend was the annual Sunrunner's party and drunk fest, held at the neuron surgeon, Jim's house out west. He and his wife have an amazing estate with so much property, they own their own lakes. It was totally fun to be in a completely different setting with my usually sweaty running friends. I have not had a sip of alcohol in more than 10 years, but Lori's crazy Michael dragged me into the part of the house they call "The Red Room" with all the "Big Boys" and insisted we knock back some Petron. The man is an obnoxious extrovert and loves to drink (and drink and drink). He does not know the word "no". I think he is like 14 years Lori's senior and she loves to say how glad she is she met him when he was 50 and not 20. "Can you imagine what he was like then??" she always says. Marc continuously commented that night about how many "lushes" were at this sprawling estate. It's true, for the way they all like to drink, it is impressive they can abuse their bodies like that and then abuse it more with excessive exercise. Marc did not escape the Red Room either, telling me that by that time, Michael was so drunk, he was doing the lime and salt in the wrong order on his hand with the shots. Those two stumbled out together so proud of themselves that they had remembered the salt was in the rooster shaker.
I am getting nervous about our trip home now, mostly because I know once we are there, I am not going to want to turn around and come back here. We continue to meet really nice people who are constantly inviting us to this gathering or that dinner. For the relationships we have made, I will never regret living here for a time. The question remains, however, how long will this time be? Today I felt extremely excited and full of hope to think about shipping out this coming summer. Why waste another day being somewhere that feels isolated and miserable? Then I felt guilty about wanting to leave when I thought about how my daughter was on fire on the tennis court yesterday, ripping the ball over the net with her fierce backhand. Her coach kept looking over his shoulder at me and telling me it was his "brilliant coaching", but I know better. That girl just turned it up a notch and decided to check in to keep up with the more advanced kids. These are the things that make living here worthwhile, but I still want to go home.
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