i wear many hats. one of them is the recap. har. har. har.

Excuse me for the lame post-title (it's one that I'm secretly proud of, however).

I want to say that my weekend technically began on Thursday night; I met - in person - the ever-darling Kimberlina de Gimchi and her company of sweatshop girlfriends. We slurped (or at least I think I slurped) on some divine gelato and, while I loser-ly brought my homework along to La Casa Dolce, these girlfriends whipped out some lovely knitting projects (including an all-in-one, take-your-pick buttock cushion, 1/2 bikini coverage thingy, and pot holder) and spoke of very funny things, like boobs. Boobs are so funny. As I walked home from this evening out, I was all smiles! My weekend was off to a great start.

The next day, Friday, was the day before Gasparilla insanity and I seized the opportunity to make my Corolla work its last-leg magic all the way to West Palm Beach in record time, so that I might avoid beer-smell, vomit, loud drunk dudes, and...oh...pirates! I thought it would be so very hip-hop of me to pick up Hustle & Flow on my way to my boyfriend's house so that we'd have something to watch that evening, but I was very snobby about it once I found out it was produced by MTV - so I couldn't tell you much, other than "it's hard out here to be a pimp" (which, my boyfriend informs me, is a classic example of me screwing up lyrics for the sake of fake paying attention. What can I say? He's right).

On Saturday, we were driving around WPB aimlessly, armed with a cooler full of seltzers and cokes, our his-n-her Nikons, and not a lot of focus (no pun intended). We thought about going to the sea turtle hospital, Singer Island, the Norton, somewhere else, and somewhere else. But none of the above really fit our moods.

We ended up spending Saturday in one of the greatest hidden gems in all of South Florida: Miami. Yes. Downtown Miami. You say Miami. I say Miami. Miami! Miami! Miami! Miami! Let's call the whole thing off!

Miami really isn't hidden. It is gigantic and sprawled out like the first pancake of the morning. But dare I say it is a gem? Yes. Oh yes. We took pictures - which I will post later this week - but my favorite part of our trip was getting there: we rode the Tri-Rail! The Tri-Rail is extraordinary public transportation for these reasons:

• it only cost $2 roundtrip for each of us to get to Miami and back - I'd say this is about 160ish miles - are you kidding me?
  
• it is a train
• it has tables (tables!) on the top floor
• it is bi-level!
• the conductor calls out stops like a smooth-jazz radio dj

But my favorite part of this lovely adventure was seeing a family I used to work with back when I was a member of this national public service organization. They hopped the train one stop after my boyfriend and I got on - and it was one of those "thank you, big strange universe" moments for me. Wow. To have the chance to see a family that was barely surviving when I knew them before, in another time, and then to learn Saturday that they are now living in their own place? They have a car? They're going to visit the science museum? Ahhh. This was a very beautiful chance encounter. And upon detraining, one of the lovely children, a former student, left this note with me:




















If I ever wonder what the hell I am doing with myself, I think I will read this little note.

And with that - my Saturday turned to Sunday and my stagecoach has turned back into a pumpkin. D. Sergei was sitting with me for a while as I wrote this, but he has since retired to my bed and I think that's where I am headed.

Quick Madge-as-a-reader-revelation: I love memoirs. Especially the one I'm into now: Tobias Wolff's This Boy's Life.