My heart was still broken when I went. Sat on the rocks, smelled the sea and watched the sun glint on the waves. My skin soaked up the warmth. And everything was alright. There was the adventure with the Italian bartender; another with the Brazilian in Prague. I was beautiful and alive. When I remember, I still am. Cinque Terre, Italy 2010
Nope. Not leaving the house.
Filipinos are mutts. There is that asian, polynesian, hispanic pirate ancestry. I put myself in with the brown girls. Interestingly, I’m classified as Asian in whatever checkboxes track that at work, and not hispanic. It was a revelation living with my chicano housemate, David. We were effortlessly family. Though the are-filipinos-hispanic is up for debate. A quick search and an unfortunate dally in comment-land shows this are-filipinos-hispanic question has some passion …
Harry: You realize, of course, that we can never be friends. Sally: Why not? Harry: What I’m saying is — and this is not a come-on in any way, shape or form — is that men and women can’t be friends because the sex part always gets in the way. Sally: That’s not true. I have a number of men friends and there is no sex involved. Harry: No you …
I slept in the middle of the bed. It was a quiet momentous thing. I rearranged my space to reclaim it. I literally have a new perspective.
Ephemeral is a good word. It comes out as a breath, with that brief “mmmm”, a delicious note on the way to a lip licking “ell”. It’s a new day. This feeling of newness happens every once and a while – like moments of sadness, or boredom, or infinite ordinariness. To feel shiny is a blessing whether or not I believe in any god.
When I began this blog, oh…yowsah! fourteen years ago? (I suppose I could check.) I told myself I’d make it a daily thing and wouldn’t really tell people about it. I managed to do that for four years. All the posts haven’t been migrated to wordpress, but they exist. Some time I’ll get around getting those over. It was a good habit. I was able to see patterns of care …
How do you measure – measure a year? In daylights – in sunsets In midnights – in cups of coffee In inches – in miles In laughter – in strife… Seasons of Love, RENT In beats In movements In Acts In chapters Divided by rests; by margins, bleeding to the edges … But who would count eternity in days? These old bones live to learn her wanton ways: (I measure …
CONNOR: Are you busy right now? Can I call you about the wind? wtf I call. “Did the tree fall down?” “No, but it looks like it might. Dennis says one fell down in his neighborhood.” “Yop. The main entrance to RIT is blocked because a tree fell. Most of the lights in Henrietta are out.” “Can we call someone?” “And they would…what? Watch our tree fall on the house? …
Two of each kind of the dollar oysters. Yes to the drink special…A winter sangria. A salad of radicio and pork cracklings. It’s a special decadence to eat well, to be served. It’s a touch of sin to spend money on something so functional as a meal. But food can sustain the soul; be as good as a massage… Well, pretty close. No. There were those grilled scallops. Yes. Potentially …
