J,

Who said, "you can’t go home again" anyway? Here I am. Admittedly, it’s a bit on the stressy side, but nonetheless nice to be here. Seriously, though, who ever said it is a very brave soul. Left up to me, it would have been more along the lines of, "I mean you can try to go home again, but why?" Or, "I wouldn’t advise it, but if you are so moved to return home, be my guest."

Maybe it’s the determinist in me that thinks every time I hear this…Yea whatever. Maybe you can’t, but you’re a pussy. I, Delilah The Mighty, can achieve any familial task, no matter the size. Like I’m some sorta domestic superhero.

Thank God for Penny. (She ended up coming, by the way.) If she weren’t here I’d already be slicing open the big veins. I guess I’m painting the picture much darker than it really is, me being me. Of course my picture can’t just be of a family, who at the core loves each other, but stays way too far up each other’s rectums to enjoy the time they have together.

My picture is of an old gray house, lonely on the hill. One small tree stands loyally in the yard. I call this tree "The Skipper." Dark—I know, very dark, anymore dark and it would be black. Enough of this mood. (Probably too much Joni Mitchell today—sorry.)

This morning on our way to the NJ Turnpike, we passed this bridal boutique. We, being quarter-aged single women, pull over to get a closer look while we adjust our sip-tops on our lattes. I have to say that I am truly amazed at what I saw. All the gowns looked like extra costumes from Ever After. I know that this isn’t interesting to you in the least, but I have to rant for just a sec about this.

Are the days when women need to feel like that are being passed from one man to another not over yet? I don’t want to have to be the one to say this, but royalty is dead, in this country at least. Women fight all day to be treated equally, but when it comes time for that wedding, they want to feel like daddy’s little princess. I’ll tell you right now that I don’t want to be treated like a princess by anyone but my masseuse.

Salisbury seems the same. I wouldn’t know how to react if it weren’t. It’s such a contrast to New York—I really enjoy having both in my life. New York is about motion and this place…well this place is about the opposite of motion. Here I feel like I have to wait for the leftovers to go bad. This I know you know all too well. I look forward to seeing you.

Signed, D. <