Last night after finally completing the last detail of redeco'ing the Lounge, I treated myself by cooking a fantastic dinner and uncorking a bottle of wine. After the second glass, I found that Norma Shearer's 1930 movie "The Divorcee" was showing, so I settled in to watch that. After another couple of glasses of wine, I decided on a cigarette. Took me 10 minutes to remember where I hid them from myself. Oh yeah - behind my British Lit book from college.
I sat on my front porch with a glass of wine and smoked, and I saw Winston poke his head out from behind the blinds in the apartment next to me. He mewed at me and then Muscles and his girlfriend came home. Winston must have sensed their return.
As I finished my cigarette the wind blew through the courtyard and through the palm trees and it made a peaceful, whistling sound. I found myself smiling, thinking - ironically - how alive a cigarette can make you feel.
I went back inside to finish "The Divorcee," and Norma Shearer looked beautiful. The movie is primarily about old friends that lose touch because of a divorce, and so I had a sudden impulse to make random phone calls to friends. I called KT and had to leave a message for her. Called Gina and we caught up. Called Lou and spoke to him for a while. Then I called my old roommate Pokey and we rehashed.
I went to bed later than usual, telling myself that I'd treat myself even more by sleeping in tomorrow. And the good feeling didn't end there. When I woke up in the morning, there were those two ducks swimming in my pool again.
A beautiful Lounge, a beautiful evening, and a beautiful life.
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