it's wednesday.
i'm having a cup of tea.
the train whistle is blowing in the background
the music hums.
it is almost Christmas -
the unwrapping of gifts, the red glow of the tree decorations,
bottle after bottle of wine, my mother's laugh,
a puzzle covering the dining table for days,
warm blankets,
snow.
16 December 2009
10 December 2009
08 December 2009
01 December 2009
The Long Winter Road
The first of December. The air is biting. The fog is thick and hovers over the city, adding the weight to our shoulders. The weight of winter. Of the holidays. We sip coffee. Red wine. Whiskey. We make elaborate dinners. Some kind of stew. Or go out to hear our friends play music. We fill the hours, dark past five, with activities to add some light. To lift the heavy blankets. To get us through until Spring.
20 November 2009
The Importance of a Friend
...and then he asked her the question no one knows how to answer. "Well then, what would be the perfect job for you?" And so, later, over a glass (or two) of amazing wine at Kir, we discussed it. What would it look like, feel like? How would it be to go to work every day knowing that you were making a difference? Contributing a part of yourself to the world? Do something you believe in? Something you could do that would allow you to answer the question 'what do you do' with pride...all this and still be able to pay your bills and maybe buy that skirt hanging in the window.
And from that topic, we, half buzzed and now fluid, moved along the line of questions that haunt the average twenty-something. What am I doing here (in this town, in this world, with this man, in this skin?) And after answering them the best we could, and playing the Devil's advocate on each others scenarios or declarations, we paid the bill, hugged that long lovely hug that means so much more than just a squeeze, that means I get you, I know how you feel when you are in a room full of people and still feel alone, or when you look up at the stars and feel minute, or gaze across the room at a stranger and wonder if their heart feels empty too. That hug meant thank you. It meant connection. It meant I'm so lucky to have you in my life.
And from that topic, we, half buzzed and now fluid, moved along the line of questions that haunt the average twenty-something. What am I doing here (in this town, in this world, with this man, in this skin?) And after answering them the best we could, and playing the Devil's advocate on each others scenarios or declarations, we paid the bill, hugged that long lovely hug that means so much more than just a squeeze, that means I get you, I know how you feel when you are in a room full of people and still feel alone, or when you look up at the stars and feel minute, or gaze across the room at a stranger and wonder if their heart feels empty too. That hug meant thank you. It meant connection. It meant I'm so lucky to have you in my life.
16 November 2009
10 November 2009
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