Weekend fun. Last weekend, Luis and I went out to dinner with my parents in D.C. at a place called Capitano in The Wharf. It’s a good, Southern Italian place. We caught up with my parents about their recent trip to Norway and Iceland, and they gave us a few souvenirs. We also stuffed ourselves on pizza, pasta, and bruschetta. Oh, and tiramisu.
On Sunday, Luis and I celebrated the 14th early by going to an all-you-can-eat stir fry place by our house. We also watched a few episodes of Dahmer: Monster: The Jeffrey Dahmer Story, which has a too-long title. We’ve already seen a documentary about him, and My Friend Dahmer, so we know about the case. He was a pretty messed up individual, to say the least. We also watched the original Nosferatu, which was very tame by comparison. Can you tell we’re looking forward to Halloween?
Things start rolling soon. I’ve realized, as I look at my calendar, that all of our fun plans start rolling soon. We’re seeing John Green next week, and then about a week later we’re seeing Josh Johnson. And then the following week we’ll be at Disney! Everything is occurring close to each other this year, and it makes it all very exciting. After we go to Disney/Universal, we’re also seeing Rush.
I like having lots of plans in autumn, because it is my favorite season. It does make it a little harder to watch a bunch of Halloween movies, but there’s nothing preventing us from stretching Halloween through November. Especially because the nice, autumn weather probably won’t really kick in until then. I cannot wait to wear hoodies outside again*.
What happens to our imaginations? In all of my nostalgia as I write lately, I remember how I used to create entire worlds in backyards, and get my friends to see the same things as me. I once turned my friend’s backyard into The Haunted Mansion, at least in our minds. It was so cool that I’ll never forget it. All we really had was a red plastic wagon (her little sister rode in the wagon) and some cool, southern gothic-esque porches and trees to play in. We wheeled her little sister around the backyard and I described the imagery of the ride, turning the porch into Madame Leota’s seance room or a tree vine into a snake. We would shake the wagon or run with it down a grassy hill to make the “ride” more thrilling in places. It was so much fun.
What happens to our imaginations as we get older? I feel like I do still imagine a lot of things, but real life and adult sensibilities often get in the way. The whimsy is quieted. I read something online recently that said we don’t remember the last time we played, because we didn’t know it would be the last time.
Maybe the next story I write should be for kids. I’d love to reawaken the whimsical, hyper-imaginative side of my brain. I know it’s still there. Does it know I miss it?
All the pieces seem to fit into place. As things fit into place in my story, I’m starting to feel oddly psyched for the second draft. This never happens. But I wrote down some notes for some changes I already know I want to make, and I’m excited to fill in some gaps and add some more subplot drama. I’ve been doing a lot of research, and humorously enough it’s a lot of looking back and remembering things that happened and when and how.
I’m starting to feel like I really have something here. I hope it’s true.
* I often wear hoodies inside because air conditioning makes me cold.
Sara Mazariegos 