Last night, after watching a thoroughly disorienting cabaret show, some of the kids and I headed to a nearby club for some dancing (more people-watching than dancing, actually). Again, loads of Canadians. And Dallas women. This was followed, of course, by the obligatory end-of-night train ride...
With the padreThe parental units and I enjoyed some sailing this morning, despite the somewhat choppy water. There's something perversely glorious about sitting in a tiny vessel in the vast expanse of an unfamiliar sea, buffeted by powerful waves that move as they please. Of course, one could also delve into the significance of adjusting the sails despite having no control over the wind, but even so, if the wind decides to stop blowing or abruptly change direction, there's a moment of helplessness or, at least, a feeling that closely resembles helplessness. And, sometimes, it can be refreshing to not be in control. Which was the general theme of sailing today, actually, given my lack of experience and the fact that my lesson earlier this week was entirely in rapid-fire Spanish.
After lunch, I finished reading Franny and Zooey, which, aside from causing me to question the purpose of higher education and my life direction in general, was hilarious and immensely enjoyable. (Incidentally, I still haven't decided if Zooey, in person, would make a riotously entertaining friend or an absolutely insufferable prick.)
