snow & gunpowder

Do you know how on the nights before weekends you think how dreamy it'll be to sleep in? How you'll let the sun gently wake you as if it knows what's best for you? I am always conflicted on those nights, because on the one hand I know I've gotten too little sleep the whole week through, inevitably, and the extra sleep will help me to feel rested for the first time in five days; on the other hand, I don't know when enough is enough when it comes to sleep. I never wake feeling rested, regardless of the amount of sleep I've had. And I always wake up regretting not waking up earlier. So weekend mornings are controversial events I get to look forward to about four times per month. What I'd really love to do is wake up early on a morning for which I've pre-planned no obligatory meetings or chores. To linger between the stark white sheets, and scootch over to the cooler side of the bed. That is a clear feeling, cool sheets. Then I'd slide slowly off the ...

Acorn caps. They keep showing up in my apartment and on my desk at the office. They're just too pretty not to gather, and so they accumulate. Those and juniper branches, in as many different colors and stages of life as I can find. Also, dried roses. Armed with full knowledge of St. Patrick's being on a Sunday this year, I took advantage of stretching the festive spirit throughout the entire weekend (it's a little harder to do this when the holiday is on a Friday or Saturday and everyone is finished being cheery before the weekend is half out, so this year is handy). For starters, it was sushi at a place that is halfway to genius. The other half is locked up in some unknown interiour designer's head, just idling. 'Til the elusive aesthetic panache makes its way here, the patio beckons. It sits above the canal, which is perfect, as I am a fan of any sort of aquatic overlook, really. Friday was a good sport and held around eighty degrees until late. I was grateful....

Words. They are a gateway, a long and twisty path to Oz, where we might find exactly what we're looking for. Exactness. It is a fleeting luxury that must never be taken too lightly, or too seriously. Where it is impossibly lost, we mustn't fret. And where it is utterly required, we must acquiesce to nothing short. Discernment and Caution will serve us well. Or they will kill us while we sleep. Ambiguity. The very vessels we ride on to get to Oz seem to think they know more than we do. They take charge and begin making up road signs that don't even exist in our route. "Exit right at 14A, Passive-Aggressive Avenue!" "Make a U-turn at Boulevard of Misunderstanding!" We waste so much time. * * * I have learned, sluggishly (and have still not fully grasped, might I say), that I cannot do with words what my hands, shoulders, feet and heart were singularly built to do. Words are decor. They are scenery. They set the mood like a gingham tablec...

I tend to go at my efforts in the extreme. Pendulum-swinging, if you will, which is apparently a stickier habit than I expected or would prefer. This is either a worldwide problem, or it exists only in my own life. Regardless of which it is, here we are, dealing with it. Balance probably doesn't actually exist. Tonight is about drinking a gin and tonic out of an Irish coffee glass pedestal mug. I hope the Brits and the Irish are on good terms, because I'd hate to upset them by using pieces of their cultures simultaneously, making them play nice together. My fiance is performing an experiment with a penny on the floor.  I'm currently reading a book by a woman who is like me. I don't feel so alone. There are entries with dates in the headers. One of the dates is my birthday, which is exciting and a little intimidating. I hope it is a good entry, and can't help but wonder (as always) if it's going to have some epiphany for my life in its pages. Recently at...

I am exercising (on purpose) again. It started Sunday. I feel more tired today than I have in months. This should probably be attributed to my contracting Mononucleosis last September. They say you can remain in a state of fatigue for up to a year after. And since this was the first actual workout since returning to work at the end of October, I guess I understand this dragging. But it's horrid. In case you hadn't heard about THE MATTRESS INCIDENT, lemme 'splain: Normal mattresses tend to be expensive, as are bed frames. I slept on an air mattress for about a year. It grew a tumor (don't ask). I slept on a pallet on the floor, alternated with an army-style cot. My back liked the floor better. This was all fine and dandy. On the way home from brunch one day (I was supposed to be going the opposite direction), there was a sign about an estate sale happening at that very moment. So I stopped to peek inside, because everyone's got to go to their first-ever es...