It’s Friday. The basement carpet has been taken up, the padding removed and the concrete floor scrubbed with bleach. This is a very good thing because it now smells like an indoor pool at the Y or a Holiday Inn. Bleached concrete is a happy smell for me that takes me back to some of my best times. So now I’m sitting in my office and just drinking in the memory of every pool party and lap swim that made me feel brand new in body and soul. My dream has always been to get a swimming pool. The older I get the more distant the dream seems, but in the moments I allow myself to fantasize I picture finishing, publishing and selling a few books then using the profit to put in a pool. Depending on how well the writing is going that week the pool fluctuates in size from a huge inground thing with fountains and an infinity edge to one of the small swim spas. Either way I love the smell of bleached concrete in the morning.
I suppose I ought to put in a feel good friday video, but I’ll be honest. I can’t think of a song and I feel oversaturated with YouTube clips and web links. I’ve been using Twitter pretty heavily this week but I can’t shake the feeling that it just isn’t for me in the long term. I don’t feel like I’m connecting with who people are. I feel like I know when they have insomnia and what they’re watching on TV and what they think is funny on the internet. But part of what Twitter is bugs me. The part where people don’t use their words to express themselves. I guess I’m just a blog nut. I prefer getting more of a story, having more of a conversation. All of this relates to FGF just because the act of posting a video to express my thoughts feels more like a Twitter thing than a blog thing for me today. I’m not down on it–I just personally need to have a wordier outlet.
And seeing as how this entry is coming up on 400 words, I suppose this counts as ‘wordier.’
Just Another Pretty Farce 
I feel the need to validate the bleach concrete smell as a precious memory invoker. I grew up near the lake so I spent a lot of my childhood in non bleached water (more slimy, must wear “lake shoe” and still can’t see your feet water). Oh the treat of staying at a hotel that had a pool during vacation! There is no skinny dipping in a pool (at least not as innocently), but being able to see your feet and not worry about what you are stepping on?–what a luxury!