No, I’m not, but yes, I am. I’m all up in Jersey’s grill today, with 3 of the 4 kidlets. We hit the pool, a really interesting Chinese buffet next to a liquor store that I did NOT go into, thinking that I could just grab a beer at the gas station on the way home, and now we’re back in the hotel for the night. Across the street is a hotel with restaurant and bar. Grumble.

Tomorrow, we head home to resume our regularly scheduled lives.

When last I blogged, I was at my Circle’s house, drinking her coffee (to excess!) and waiting for the sun to shine. She’s one of my favorite people, ever, and her family is fantastic. Mush, mush, mush. Sigh, sigh, sigh. Melt, melt, melt. So there.

After leaving Circle’s house, Scarlet and I wrangled the kiddos through Salem, Mass. What an incredible mixture of weird expectations and feeling far too “normal” there to stay.

ML Audience: I’m sorry, what did you say? You’d think that eventually your weird head monologue would translate well into real-world communication. I guess you have everyone fooled, dontcha?

Melia: Bite me.

ML Audience: Yo.

What I mean is that for the first time in a long time, I kind of felt like I was part of a community, rather than sticking out like a sore thumb (as I tend to do in Stepford). While that was really comforting, it was a little bizarre to think that I’d find someplace where I really was just like everyone else. It was Bizarro World mecca, only not, in a Bizarro World twisty pie-on-a-stick sort of way. “Ordinary” doesn’t feel quite as comfy as I had thought, but,  I will be back there. And Circle’s. Its totally coincidental, I assure you.

The next stop was New Hampshire and a little lady named “Freckles,” who I’ve known for two years online. She opened her “house-on-steroids” to me, Scarlet and our kids and then had about 10 more hippies join us the following afternoon. She’s a lovely lady who lives in a strange town that reminds me of Amityville, and I’m not sure why, except for its proximity to Amityville. Either way, it, too, was a fantastic visit, Moxie included. No, that’s a lie. Moxie is HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE, HORRIBLE.

I left Freckles’ house this morning, determined to at least drive to Maine (since I was so close and it only added one more hour or so to my trip, because that somehow made sense to me yesterday) and managed to somehow get slightly lost (again) even with Dr. N telling me where to go. There are a lot of tiny lobster places in Maine. Who knew? I wonder if lobster makes Moxie taste any less like carbonated dog poo.

So, back to Jersey. I’ve got three kids, cable TV, wi-fi, Dr. Pepper, a caramel milky way and pretzels. I don’t have beer or alcohol, but I do have a pretty plush bed that is screaming my name, if only my kids would pass out. I’m tired. I’ve had a great Spring Break but I am ready to go home, oddly enough. I am less than three weeks away from completing my degree (need more Freud!), and then I have a summer tour to plan and a bunch of new plans to put into motion. Muahahahahahaha!

Melt.