Missionary is the space between your arms and my shoulders.

It was so darned hot today.  From almost the first breath of dawn to these last quiet moments I played the spare today.  Number three.  My usual post. It is something that I still cannot seem to get used to.  Sometimes I want to break free- scream, shake myself, wake up from this world and find something better for myself, but I would so miss the people, I just cannot convince myself to go.

Have you ever imagined it?  Cooly, quietly, slipping unseen into the night, never to return.  Just a shadow or a memory.  Do you ever wonder who would think of you when you left?  Cross someone’s mind once a day?  Once a week?  Once a month?  Who would even care?  The people you think- or a complete surprise cast?  Perhaps no one.  And then, if it is no one, is that something you want to risk knowing?  I don’t know.

Dwelling on these dramatic thoughts can get a person so glum- perhaps I should stop writing at two in the morning.  Instead of the heavy cortex work, let me offer:

Here are five things that made me happy today-

1) Watching almost a whole pound of turkey bacon cook at once on the griddle lovingly purchased for me by Jacob.
2) My free trip to the Franklin Park Zoo, getting to put in my vote for the new baby giraffee name.
3) The way flank steak tastes if you marinade it just right and drink a lime rikey with your meal.
4) Eating peanut butter oreo ice cream with people who truly appreciate its deliciousness.
5) Getting surprise text messages with messages that inspire hope.

Is it a problem that three of these things focus on food?  I think so, but I am not sure how to fix that.  Maybe I just had a little too much to smoke tonight and I have the munchies?  I don’t know, but I could sure go for a cheese pizza right now.

I picked “Twinkie” as a name.  I think its brilliant.  Giraffes totally remind me of twinkies!

Haiku- Soup Memory

mild, salty liquid
a world of memories flood-
golden on my tongue.

Ever Virgin.

"It is coarse and ungraceful to throw food into the mouth as you would toss hay into a barn with a pitchfork"~Suzanne Von Drachenfels

Just got back from dinner at The Palm, in Boston.  It’s Jacob and my favorite place to go, even if it costs a fortune.  It was a nice treat, even though we only went there last a week ago (and spent twice as much!) There’s something very special about going to an expensive restaurant.  Our waiter, who remembered us, and the wine we ordered, was attentive, thoughtful, and conversational.  To, for an hour or so, feel important, even in such a stupidly simple way as a restaurant guest, puts my mind at ease.  I like dressing nice and going to dinner. Jacob joined the 385 club at the restaurant today.  We get points for eating there.  We’re going to earn enough to go on vacation. (details to follow).

My stomach feels very unfriendly right now, an unfortunate side effect of eating nothing until our 7:00pm reservation.  It isn’t often that I’d wait so long to eat in a day but work is busy, hectic, and very stressful with the demanding Rosenberg Institute programing.  I do like my job, though not everything about it is good.  I don’t think anyone’s job is completely awesome, so I am NOT complaining.  I just need a vacation, which I will soon be getting as we head off to the Berkshires for Thanksgiving.  I just need to be away from work for an extended period of time.  I need to be away from this house, too, to be able to clarify my head from the slosh that has become my bedfellow.  I know this pain and frustration isn’t worth it- it’s just hard to pull yourself out once you begin. Besides, I look pretty in green.

Also, today I decided that if I were to throw myself in front of a bus, I would bequeeth the following items to those I love:  My vast collection of books, to Joe.  My scrapbooks in all their forms to Kacee.  Lavan and Seamus to Jacob.  My DS and games to Kerri.  I don’t really have anything of value, but let it be known, if I should throw myself in front of a bus, that those items should be doled out accordingly.

Does someone want to get me a tattoo for Christmas?

Ever Virgin.