Hannah is bouncing off the walls with excitement about going to Florida. I almost wish she were going with me;we haven't had the experience of being on vacation together yet. I promised her a trip at the end of the summer when I can take my other week off. "Paris?", she says to me. That's what I get for putting that seed in her head.
The attic is coming right along...I'll be moving the futon mattress up there before I go, and I finished putting up the "walls" last night. I need a little more light, and some throw pillows...It's turning into a really comfortable space already though, and I look forward to getting some solitude in it.
Moodwise, today I'm OK. My version of OK, anyway, which I guess is a little different than some. Today I don't want to die, and I don't think my life and the world I live in to be utterly hopeless. Too many days I wake up with that bottomless despair. Everyone has a cross to bear though, and mine could be a million times worse. I'm not quite ready to profess my gratittude yet...Just trying to enjoy the highs while they last and ride out the lows until they're gone.
I'm a little discouraged about this website. I'm running out of things to say and links to post...Running out of interesting content. I can see how some people get really into it for a while only to find themselves neglecting their page for days or weeks on end. There really is only so much you can write about yourself and your friends, and in the end that content is only interesting to the people it's about. If nothing else, I am keeping a better journal now than before.
California, here I come....Nine blissful days in the arms of the man I love. How much more perfect could it get? It feels so long ago that I was running in my high heels throught the airport in Charlotte, thinking to myself "I have plenty of time, I have plenty of time" Butterflies in my stomach, entire body trembling...I go into the magazine store, to distract myself, I have 20 minutes to kill. Deciding against dirty magazines, deciding against Mysteries of History, wandering out into the hallway to go sit in one of those orange, supposedly ergonomically correct chairs...and there he is, smiling, already off the plane, confused, wary, waiting for some hilarious practical joke. "You're not supposed to be here yet!", I'm thinking as I hug him. How embarrassing. Not even there to meet the guy's plane. I remember it took 30 minutes in the car for me to reach for his hand, and I never wanted to let him go. The next time at the airport I was ready. Too ready. I paced, I changed my seat, then decided to stand, changed my stance, arranged my hair, much to the amusement of the airport guy in charge of the door. Then a thousand people file off the plane, while I am so nervous I think I might faint, leaning this way and that on the column behind me, trying to appear nonchalant, flipping my hair, jutting my hips out sexily, all the while thinking, oh my god he's not on the plane. I am almost in tears as I finally catch a glimpse of him and it's as if the whole world shifts so that everything makes sense again. I feel like that when I'm away from him, like something isn't quite right, nothing specific, but when I see his eyes and his smile and feel his arms around me, it all falls back into place. It should be terrifying for me to feel this, should make me feel boxed in, trapped, dependent. Somehow instead, it gives me the freedom to love him with everything I have. Loving this way makes me feel stronger, more capable, more....worthy. Everything I am has changed for the better as a result of knowing this man.
Well that oughta do it. Hopefully he'll spring for dinner a few times while I'm in Cali, maybe give me the bed instead of the floor.....
