I'm a firm believer that vacations should have a day or two relating to the root word from which vacation derives, a root which also gave rise to the word vacant, that is a day with very little going on except for relaxing, zoning out and the like. Tuesday was that day for me. I slept in a bit (my body finally beginning to adjust to the time change and not waking me up at 7am, thinking it's past noon), tooled around on the computer, watched some shows online (like Brothers and Sisters, which Jeremy and Allison don't watch, so I hadn't wanted to insist on seeing it, knowing it would be online and available), and just lazed about. Allison had to go to work a bit after 12, so when she got up I left the bedroom and chatted with her. She was quitting her job at the end of the week, but her boss was just so crazy and her co-workers (not all, but enough) were generally intolerable, so as we got to talking she worked herself up to just tell them that today would be her last day, instead of Thursday. I totally supported the idea, and when she left she took a change of clothes so she could turn in her uniform. She also forgot her key, and I was very confused when the doorbell rang, but the issue was soon resolved and I was again left on my own to focus on doing nothing, which I did with a ferocious intensity.
Jeremy got done with work fairly early, so when he got home we discussed evening plans. I had decided that I wanted to cook a couple of dinners for them to show my appreciation for their hospitality, and I figured that night would be a good one. Jeremy had to mail the wedding invitations, so he headed for the post office and I for the grocery store, picking up everything I would need for pasta with chicken breasts and beans for that night, and a good beef vegetable stir-fry later in the week. The grocery store stank oddly just inside the entryway, a fact that both Jeremy and Allison remarked on later and asked if I had noticed. Jeremy and I met up back at the apartment and headed down to the pool to lounge away the hour or so until it would be time to start cooking and heading over to pick up Allison on her last day of work. There's something vaguely disconcerting about sunning oneself by a pool when you can hear the ocean and feel the breeze with it's slight salt tinge, but it's lovely nonetheless.
While Jeremy picked up Allison, I cut and sauteed the beans, foil baked the chicken, and boiled up some rotini. We drank a nice Riesling with the meal and I was quite pleased with my efforts. We were a bit rushed though, as we had plans to meet with Jeremy's friend Tom (from the sailboat, see pictures on Facebook) to go see Spider-Man 3. Now, I'm a bit of a movie whore and I tend to like any movie so long as it's not wildly offensive in an inappropriate manner (movies that are offensive in an appropriate manner, see The South Park Movie or anything by John Waters, are divine). But I do have a special place in my heart for comic book movies, having loved reading comic books so much as a kid and dreaming of the day when I would face a crisis moment and my heretofore hidden superpower would become apparent. (PS-Still waiting) So I liked the movie, though the rest of the group panned its cheesiness and slow unfolding. To me it felt a lot like reading a comic book, which I guess is something you have to like first. I thought it a nice way to end the evening.