Took the bus to work all week. My gas gage is still on F.
Re-discovering the joy of reading books. Even controversial ones about my religion.
(Still in? Still in.)
Got my hair cut short tonight. I can't remember the last time I had short hair.
Which is why it's now short.
Picked up a few organic goodies from the market.
Sorted through a box of old letters from loved ones. I laughed at the love letter from navy boy I once sold a surfboard to.
I cried at the card my Grandma wrote more than "Love, Grandma" in. In shaky penmanship.
That's what she had- penmanship. It wasn't just handwriting.
Boiled some corn on the cob.
Ate some crackers and brie.
Ani is singing "tame the stallions of my wildest expectations." And "... at the kitchen table doing shots of resignation."
Tomorrow is a day all for me, paid for by my employer.
Mary sounds stoked about her new move.
Manda is photographing Montana.
Mom's got my back.
Dad's on his scrilla saw.
Paul's a genius made of steel.
Leanne's giving birth next month.
Jennie's my baby sister forever.
I get a new tooth on Monday.
Life makes me happy. I am lucky to be alive and well.
Here in 2008. Here in Santa Cruz. Here in America.
Happy 4th of July!
1 comment:
So weird, I was just thinking about how much I miss you, and you wrote something new.
And I love this post. You are a poet.
And Ani is coming to Missoula in like a week and a half. Wanna come and we'll go together?
And I am feeling insecure and blue and lonely. Let us commence with the writing of emails and lifting each other whilst we are down.
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