Kiki gave Kaly a subscription to Cook's Illustrated for Christmas last year (or something like that). If I only had an address for just twelve months in a row, I might get myself the same. One day, I say.
Mike and Eileen wondered what to give me as a gift from Ireland when I housesat for them this summer (which is an incredible treat, as the 96-year-old house is full of character with a beautifully landscaped garden, fabulous cook's kitchen, the most perfect grey cat you ever knew, and dreamy air conditioning). Eileen suggested an Aran sweater from, well, Aran. Mike countered that I wouldn't see winter for a couple of years. The bottle of Sapphire they bought me broke in their bag in the Customs line. Nice thought, I said, 'cause you can't buy an address-less kid anything. I told Mike: I have to be able to consume it whether contact lens solution, Kiehl's, food or frequent flyer miles. That about covers it. Nothing to store, no clothes, no things. I have an aversion to things that do not disappear with regular use. Mostly because I feel like I have a lot of things. I, however, apparently have no aversion whatsoever to abusing italics.
Besides, it's hard filling out paperwork and online forms without an actual address. Have you ever thought of that?
Update: An exception to the "thing rule" as I will call it. The ipod. This is only because it shrinks 600 of my things called compact discs (which apparently are not so compact anymore) into a 5.6 ounce package. It also backs up my entire laptop. Does this mean I get to write it off?
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