this morning

It has been days of yellow sun. The world is fresh, sweet, brimming, teeming.

lights are out

Somehow frivolous fun was a crime. Enthusiasm and freedom of thought and action were punishable offences. This was part of my subtext, but that is changing. The change requires a separation. Separation is my greatest fear - separation is an end. I can do this. I have come to trust in a way that an infant does when they learn that things don't dissapear just because the lights are out.

This week I became a minimalist. Saying too much was dangerous, but I stopped myself before I sanitized the life out of me. I have learned to recognize when I become vigilant, gravitating to rigidity. I bring it into view and move on.

This week I have a lightness in the heart, butterflies in the stomach, involuntary random smiles, poor appetite, the impatience of a 15 year old, difficulty falling asleep, and more energy than I need. I can go with this. This is what life is all about!

out there

There is nothing quite like this feeling. It is worth it just for this. We went out again last night. I am shocked that I like him - I wasn't planning on it but I do. He is cute, he feels nice. I need to focus on work now. I love that it is hard for me today. I just needed to get that out there.

once you go through, you can't come back

We talked from late afternoon until night. Not just anyone can squeeze into a revolving door with me and get away with it.

I forgot how vulnerable liking someone makes me feel.

pas de deux

Sipping an americano, sitting on my balcony, writing. It is a warm spring day with so much potential. I asked Michael when he would visit. I am waiting for an answer. I asked Simon if he wanted to get into a crowded elevator and shoot to the top of an unnaturally tall structure. He accepted. Today is many things, but dull is not one of them, though I feel content and relaxed.

Today I stopped in at Starbucks on my way home from the grocery store. I was planning on taking my coffee to go, but upon overhearing a conversation, I took a seat nearby. One man leafed through a stack of sheet music, the other leaning back in his chair. They talked about the music, how the set might look. The word 'stylized' kept coming up, along with a french term with multiple words I have heard before but can't remember. I know it reminded me of 'pas de deux'. I left, taking the rest of my coffee home.

Soon I will have a long shower, shave, exfoliate.

fermished

I had such an amazing day. It is beautiful outside. I got up, had a bite to eat, met a friend for coffee, went for a great run, figured out how to style my new haircut, got a wax (which I realized when I got home was completely fermished), had a mani-pedicure, and tonight I am going out for dinner with friends. I brought home a half-caff americano and ate some granola to tide me over until tonight. My ex Michael emailed me out of the blue...again. What does that mean??? Why does that make me so happy? Still, I am looking forward to my date tomorrow - The resident is back. He wasn't supposed to be around until Passsover, but he emailed this week to say he decided to come up. We are going out tomorrow night. Despite the somewhat sophomoric vocabulary, I find him kind, witty, and clever. He is also very cute, and more than three apples high. There is a small chance I am mistaking some things he says as sarcasm. For example, when he said he would bring a haki sak so we could play, I thought, "how terribly funny", then wondered, "what if he was serious". I guess this is where I just have to wait and see. Isn't being single great?

occasionally looming

My friend has been thrown one of life's curveballs. It is sad, awkward - something that you might find on TV or hear about a friend of a friend of a friend that has been through it, yet it happens all the time. It is something that threatens many, occasionally looming for a period of time, but like a storm, it usually moves on, blue sky in its path. Her cloud is is a greenhouse gas - stubborn, threatening to poison, destructs slowly, and may never move on - life may never be as expected.

Life failing to meet expectation in this way is tragic. I am glad to be an outlet for her. I am a nurse, so I should be good at this, but I can tell you it has never come easy to me. Never.

I guess this is my outlet.

dinner guest

I like buying flowers and taking them on the subway or walking somewhere with them... I love carrying flowers.

in the bones

My body aches. Like the growing pains I used to get when I was small, only they remained long after I finished growing. It is in the bones of my uppper arms, just before the shoulder. The forearms, toward the wrist. Lower legs under the knees.

Today on my way home I felt like crying. There were no reasons.

I am afraid today, and sad. Sad for the Pope, for Peter Jennings, for life that has passed too quickly, for things not turning out as expected.

I am uncomfortable. Sometimes things feel messy.

I look forward to wearing my new shoes, getting my hair done, going out on a second date, non-school related reading and writing, ballet, and painting classes.

I hope that good things happen.

finding la mer

Last night I dreamt I had a big jar of La Mer face cream. I was carefully cleaning my face in preparation for putting on the cream. It was the kind of dream I sometimes have where I find money and I feel happy and lucky, only this time it was La Mer (which might as well be money).

smoke signals

History is unfolding before our eyes. It goes along with moments like the death of Princess Di, 911... These are the moments we will still remember clearly when we are old and can remember little else. Talking with my mother the other day, I told her that I felt sad about what was happening to the Pope. I guess I find it strange that I feel so sad, being Jewish. My Mother told me that it will be interesting for me to see how the whole process works. She explained the conclave, the secrecy, the white smoke signal. She remembered it clearly from 25 years ago - when I was little - too young to remember. It suddenly occured to me that my mother was exactly my age at the time. "It felt like yesterday". Her words sucked the breath out of me, ground whipped out from beneath my feet. This moment screamed to me of my mortality.