I got two parcels in the mail yesterday. TWO! I am so spoiled. One was from a delightful darling of an ex-roommate who sent me fancy post-its, a leather travel case, a Latin quote and phrase book and a funny card, all of which are exactly what I would have picked out if I had been in the store with her. Wow. The other was from England (Royal Post, dahling) and included chocolate, a three CD Billie Holiday set (!!!) and something from the Royal Shakespeare Company which I am saving. Fab-oh. Yes, the occasion is an upcoming birthday. Unfortunately, as I sat on my bed, by myself, tearing open packages, I was overwhelmed with homesickness and began sobbing. Don't get me wrong; presents are wonderful (and you can send them to 110 Lipton St...hee hee...). I would just so much rather have PEOPLE arriving at my doorstep.
As I sit and watch the snow falling down
I don’t miss you at all
I hear children playing, laughing so loud
I don’t think of your smile
So if you never come to me
You’ll stay a distant memory
Out my window I see lights going dark
Your dark eyes don’t haunt me
And then I wonder who I am
Without the warm touch of your hand
And then I wonder who I am
Without the warm touch of your hand
As I sit and watch the snow falling down
I don’t miss you at all
I don’t miss you at all
I don’t miss you at all --Norah Jones
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