I was excited when Harold suggested a last-minute trip to Kansas City. Partly because I love when scheduled, steady Harold wants to do something spontaneous. (I don’t know how manic pixie dream girls do it. I’m quirkily restless all the freaking time, and Harold has yet to throw over all his responsibility and move to Bali with me.) And partly because Kansas City is such a major role, almost a character, in the stories Harold’s told me about his years there.
And so the actual Kansas City is superimposed with the stories Harold has told me, making it more than a mortal Midwestern City. After bringing Harold to my Massachusetts family, the situation is entirely reversed. It is his decades-long friendships to which I’m being introduced.
While we were there, I took a lot of desperately unimaginative photos, because I am the very first person ever to notice that there is a lot of sky in Kansas Missouri. It’s also very flat! So you can see for miles! Yeah, I’m full of unique observations like that.
This is NOT the world's largest ball of string. Anymore.
If it isn’t the world’s largest ball of string anymore, why don’t they add some more string to it?
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