I'd rather be

Genevieve.

I know that I have to go home and shave my legs. I would rather drive south towards North Carolina, windows open and radio blasting - maybe I'd figure out who Ke$ha (?) is. I would stop for coffee and Tums and make a night out of it. I'd be there by tomorrow morning, and I would crash on Genevieve's bed while she was on set. When her call was over we would walk across the beach and go swimming and smoke cigarettes - even though I don't smoke I would welcome the familiar and consistent habit. Maybe we'd have a six pack of cold canned beer and kill those while we talked about everything and nothing. Make that a 12 pack. We'd go swimming and she would pick me up and swirl me around and then we'd have handstand contests and float on our backs with our ears below water so the world would seem like it was silent. We'd wander back to the house and I'd make dinner, something light like roasted veggies on the grill. She would wipe the sweat off of my chin and call me "a sweaty baby" like we were 19 again. I'd go into her room and change, like, a thousand times trying to fit my boobs into her tiny shirts. She would make me feel good and sexy about myself and I would walk around like I was a secret pin up model. We'd laugh with all of her movie star friends but retire to a porch or take a walk early on. We'd find ourselves in town, and I'd be really sun burned because I forgot to put on sun block, but it would be okay because the bar we were at would cut the sting after our first tequila shot. The bartender would back our drinks up because he could tell we were women to be reckoned with. We'd sit over our beer chasers and talk about the boys we once loved and try and figure out what went wrong. We have all sorts of reasons for these things and justify them in all earnestly - we were free spirits that couldn't be tied down, or said boy just couldn't see our inner light. Then we'd admit that it was because we never grew a big enough pair to make it happen and laugh over it. We'd go to the juke box and slow dance to a song or maybe pretend to know how to play darts or pool. Not once would we take out our cell phones. We'd walk home and smoke a joint on the way. There would be crickets and peepers and we wouldn't talk. It was seem like day because the moon was so bright - but we would know different even if we were stoned because we fancy ourselves ladies of the moon. We'd crawl into bed and our feet would touch. Sleep would come so easy because we spent the day in the water and the sun and laughing with our best friend. I'd get up the next morning and drive home. Not once would I think "I need to shave my legs."