Thursday, October 30
Wednesday, October 29
Tuesday, October 28
Monday, October 27
Sunday, October 26
Saturday, October 25
Friday, October 24
Thursday, October 23
Wednesday, October 22
Tuesday, October 21
Monday, October 20
Sunday, October 19
Saturday, October 18
Friday, October 17
Thursday, October 16
Oh, the places you'll go
I just got back from farewell drinks with Biz, and I was going to write a sweet post about how Biz has changed my life, and how much I'm going to miss him, and how much I hope he has a wonderful time in San Fran.
My planned post was this: Biz Stone changed my life.
So I went back to find the exact url of my first post, and discovered that Biz had since left a comment -- you know, from the future, since I didn't have commenting when I began blogging. The comment, of course, made me laugh, and then it hit me. I'm really going to miss him. Luckily, he's got a swank loft in San Fran, and I'm totally going to visit. Next week. (Prepare the movable walls!)
posted @ 7:07 PM |
Case closed
I finally finished a book last night. It's been months since I accomplished that particular feat. I've started a lot and carried them around with me, but I haven't been able to close the book knowing there was nothing more to read. An Experiment in Love by Hilary Mantel was well written, but it ended abruptly and left me feeling ambivalent about the book. I was happy mainly because I'd finished it, and it was a nice change of pace from all the magazine reading I'd been doing. Which is not to say that the magazine reading is done for me. I hope to hit B&N this weekend, buy a few books and an assload of magazines. And when I'm not working on being the best damn magazine editor/writer ever, I have to work on the website for my class. Did I mention I finished a book?
posted @ 8:45 AM |
Leaving on a midnight train
I haven't been on a train since college -- I took a midnight train to Georgia, but it left Boston at 9 am. (No, really, I went to Georgia. That's one long-ass train ride, people.) Coming back tonight, it reminded me of my last train ride, rushing back from a week-long stay in the South because of my grandfather's death. I cried most of that night, sad to be leaving Georgia, Alabama, and the person I loved behind me, sad to be heading to Ohio and a funeral. I was glad to be coming home tonight -- the conference was exciting and interesting and all manner of other good things, but I missed Boston and my bed and my life. I've come back to find things in a bit of a mess, and I am wishing to be gone again.
posted @ 5:19 PM |
Defamiliarization
I caught the Spurs-Sun game last night. It was weird; the men just looked ... too big. And awkward. And slow. I knew that none of that was true (well, the men are kind of on the tall side), but I just couldn't get engaged in the action. Boys look weird in shorts. Or maybe I've just gotten too used to the women after a summer of the WNBA.
posted @ 5:28 AM |
Reading Playboy in my hotel room or how I learned to write catchy headlines
One of today's sessions was led by an editor from Playboy, and surprisingly, I learned quite a bit. In addition to ideas on how to keep my content fresh (without using pictures of naked women), I learned that Playboy actually does have good articles. One of the perks of the session was FREE PORN! I got a copy of the November issue just for sticking around and not being embarrassed by naked boobies. In it, there is an excellent interview with Quentin Tarantino and an extensive article on Wal-Mart's evil empire. It was nice to see a magazine give serious page count to articles -- the Tarantino piece was maybe 7,000 words. Nobody gets 7,000 words anymore! My longest piece was 3,000 and it was generally considered to be too long. We spent a lot of time at the conference talking about how to chop things up, make articles more easily digestible for readers in our busybusybusy lives. There has to be a balance, especially for magazines that don't have money to pay for extra copy from a built-in subscription base for naked chicks.
On a side note, I've never bought Playboy, and not because I have a problem with porn. (My sister tends to get upset with her boyfriend for reading/watching it and I've yet to understand why. I mean, really, who cares? As long as your mate doesn't prefer porn over you, everything is fine.) Generally, I don't buy Playboy because it's "entertainment for men." Reading over my free copy, however, I've found lots of articles that I enjoy. And this month's issue has an in-depth interview with John Cusack, AKA the love of my life. So, how is writing for men different from writing for women? Is it? Should it be? And, um, could somebody buy this issue for me?
posted @ 4:08 PM |
Comfort food
I don't hate NYC as much as I did yesterday because I have been lulled into a food coma. I had dinner tonight at Craft, which was so unbelievably good it almost eclipsed the falafel. At nearly three hours, it was one of the longest meals of my life, which was heaven. Left to my own devices, three hours would be the length of every meal for me -- I have been documented as one of the world's slowest eaters. Just ask Leigh.
FOLIO:Show is keeping me alive with ideas -- the only problem is, I've spent the better part of the last few weeks thinking, and my brain is tired. I hope I don't hit total meltdown before the conference is over. Today was editorial boot camp, which entailed a room full of dorky editor-types oohing and aahing over headlines and dangling participles.
Tomorrow, I hope to hit some stuff about magazines on the web ... because, in case you hadn't noticed, I'm interested in, like, the internet and stuff.
posted @ 7:28 PM |
Bright lights, big city
I hate New York. (And, no, it's not just an extension of my Yankees hatred.) It's too big, too loud, too dirty, and too high on itself. No thanks, I'm all set. I miss Boston already, and I've only been in this godforsaken hole for three hours.
Okay, one good thing: The f-ing falafel is amazing.
posted @ 4:05 PM |
Life is unforgiving and you need to forgive
In my ninth-grade English class, we had a test which included an on-the-spot analysis of a poem we had never seen before. It was a bad poem, something about headlights like lances, and I wrote about the fighting imagery, cars like tanks, feeling cut off/safe in cars, etc. My teacher marked me off on the test and basically told me my analysis was wrong. First, I don't think I was wrong. Second, it was a bad poem, but it stuck with me anyway. Driving home from work tonight, every headlight was an assault. I felt battered by the world. Which I think is an excellent mindset for a nice jaunt to New York City for the FOLIO Show. I'm taking the beloved iBook, but I don't know what my connectivity will be. I hope to be completely refreshed and energized by the conference and freakishly eager to blog it all, but I make no promises.
posted @ 6:29 PM |
Have you never been mellow?
I'm working this weekend and then I'm off to New York for the FOLIO show, which I anticipate being very cool, but mentally exhausting. When I get back, I've got to say goodbye to Stone, which I anticipate being very sad and emotionally exhausting. Then it's Halloween and some very cool bloggy friends are having parties that I really want to attend, but I fear for the state of my mind at that juncture. I want to be cool and just go and have a great mellow time, but what's to keep me from breaking down in front of a jack-o-lantern? What, I ask you?
(And yes, I do know the lyrics to Olivia Newton-John songs. You got a problem with that?)
posted @ 6:42 AM |
Working late falls into the category of seriously freaky shit, which may seriously be my favorite phrase
Currently vying for most surreal moment in the life of Jen Garrett: Singing and dancing to You Can Do It with my coworkers, at 10:30 at night, in the hallway of an administration building at Wellesley. Now, really, can my life get any weirder?
posted @ 8:21 PM |
Since I met the devil I ain't been the same
I've been trying to compose my thoughts on the recent abortion decision, the Bush administration, the political process, truth, justice, and the American way. But, in truth, I am too tired. I used to love to argue, and I did, endlessly. (I think you'll find that you can never convince me I'm wrong.) I am exhausted by how much there is to fight, how useless I feel before it all. I vote, regularly and often, but it doesn't seem to change anything. And, in truth, most of these decisions don't change anything, literally at least, for me -- I recognize my own privilege, my ability to circumvent these decisions if I need. The only thing that seems to be changing is me.
posted @ 4:36 AM |
When you find yourself thinking too much, do something simple
Since I've been doing lots of brow-furrowing intensive brain-work lately, I decided to give myself a mental break and fix some html instead. I know, try to contain your excitement. Look! The links on my writing page are fixed! (I may or may not have been influenced by a complaint from Garrett.)
posted @ 9:48 AM |
Greater than or less than?
Which makes you feel worse: Doing your bills or using those free address labels charities send you? Yum, guilt for spending money and guilt for not spending it on the right thing, like the Audubon Society or helping needy children.
posted @ 6:42 PM |
My closet is a mess, or how TLC and the Safety of Objects conspired to ruin my life
I have too much stuff. I've come to this realization slowly, because I worship the consumer ideal and have thusly spent great quantities of my wealth on nothing at all. Several events in the last few weeks have forced me to come face-to-face with the reality of my overwhelming quantity of crap.
I first began to be suspicious that I might need to throw some stuff away when I watched TLC's new home-improvement show, Clean Sweep. As you may surmise, the show's purpose is to rid people of the unnecessary detritus that hangs about their home. Every time I see the show, I think, "I need to clean out my closet." (And it's true, people. I have vests in there. Vests.)
Last weekend, I had dinner with my friends, and at one point, my friend brought up feeling envious of a woman who had lost all her worldly possessions in a fire. "Sometimes, I wish my house would burn down," she said, and I replied, "Sometimes I wish my life would burn down." Not a good sign.
Last night, I watched The Safety of Objects, which was an odd collection of short stories turned into an oddly effective film. (And I'm not just saying that because Glenn Close is generally amazing and my boy Josh Jackson was in it.) By the end of the movie, I was convinced that I had far too much stuff and that I wasted far too much time on things that are not important. The mere idea of being free from it all -- my stuff, my life -- is far too heady for comfort.
posted @ 7:54 AM |
All the leaves are brown
I did the cold-floor dance across my bedroom this morning, hustling to get into the hot shower. When I got to my car, I actually had to pull the scraper out of my trunk because of the frost. It's too cold, too soon. You know it's sad when looking at weather.com is a voyeuristic experience, and you are longing to be somewhere else.
posted @ 7:12 AM |
I'm not a chef though I don't play one on TV
Who knew tabbouleh was spelled tabbouleh?
posted @ 8:51 AM |
Stealing a page from someone else's book or why I can't focus on the world when my shoelace is untied
Tonight I went out to dinner with some friends and we were having the all-important conversation on what we're really looking for in a significant other -- and while we talked about manners and appropriate levels of intelligence and how I love goofy boys (which is different from dorky boys, though I like them too, it just depends on what kind of dork, 'cause, let's face it, I'm a big dork, and did you know that my main hobby appears to be blogging? And that is truly, truly horrifying), we never once touched upon looks or money. I said some truly asinine things which I later contradicted, but I think I really said aforementioned stupid things because what I was thinking was: "My shoelace is untied."
It seriously undid me. I obsessed about it for a good 20 minutes before I finally bit the bullet and tied my damn shoe.
posted @ 7:33 PM |
Marital bliss
Evan Farmer is my husband.
That is all.
Update: I just found this. I'm not sure our relationship is as solid as I thought.
posted @ 8:35 PM |
Breaking up is hard to do
Sometimes, it's best when things just end. Sometimes, you fight long and hard and you give it your best shot, but it just wasn't meant to be. Sometimes, you just need time apart, to gather your strength, to focus on yourself, and then you can give it another try.
It doesn't mean I don't love you, it just means we can't be together right now.
posted @ 6:02 AM |
It's everywhere
Red Sox fever, that is. They just played "Take Me Out to the Ball Game" on the carillon here at Wellesley. Some day soon we'll return to our regularly scheduled blogging, folks. I promise.
posted @ 1:05 PM |
posted @ 6:21 AM |
Wednesday, October 15
See you at game 7
Red Sox, 9-6. We're taking it all the way, people. All. The. Way.
posted @ 5:18 PM |
Tic-ing away
I have a little tic; no one can see it; it exists merely to irritate me. My lip kind of ... quivers. Not an "ohshitshesgoingtostartcrying" quiver, but a little twitch. Usually, this only occurs when I've had too much caffeine, not enough sleep, and perhaps more stress than is generally recommended. I don't know what's wrong with me now, as none of those factors are in play today.
Perhaps it's my inner blog-timer going off. "Blog now! Or we'll keep this up until you do!" is what my lips seem to be saying. If my lips could speak. You know, without me telling them to.
posted @ 12:40 PM |
Tuesday, October 14
Living in the then
Inspired by TQ's look back at his very first post, I dug up what is officially my first attempt at a weblog. At the time, however, I didn't think much of my endeavors: "I was going to do one of those cheesy/sexy/cool web journal things, but I don't have the energy and who the hell would care enough to read it? I don't care enough to write it. I'll just keep you posted on my random meanderings, ramblings, thoughts, rants, and otherwise here. Mainly, I'll just use this as another tool to tell everyone what to do."
Wow. I'm still telling everyone what to do, but apparently, I do care enough to write this.
posted @ 6:45 AM |
Monday, October 13
Born to run
Today was the Tufts 10K for Women in Boston, and the weather cooperated nicely. I was at the race to cheer on my girls (Jen, Jen, and April -- and, while there, Jen and I ran into our former roommate Jen, so I was cheering on three Jens and one April by the end. I know. Life as a Jen is complicated, people). I had a great time cheering on my friends; I am an excellent fan. I was trying to get the people around me more into it (a la the Wellesley Scream Tunnel), but I didn't have much luck. I was smart and wore my Wellesley t-shirt, and a couple of the runners pointed to me and said "Wellesley!" which got them an extra loud scream. What was really cool about the race was that it was all women -- all ages, all sizes, moms pushing their kids, women in wheelchairs, and women who are much older than me and in much better shape. It was ... inspiring. It almost made me want to run it myself next year. But I think I'm much better suited to the sidelines.
posted @ 12:54 PM |
Sunday, October 12
We are family
I went to see Intolerable Cruelty with the fam today, and then we went out to dinner. The movie was nothing to write home about (which wouldn't have been necessary anyway, since I was sitting with my mom and two sisters), but it was funny and light. I was amazed to find that Catherine Zeta-Jones had zero chemistry with George Clooney, because I thought that man could light a fire with wet matches. I have to admit I'm not a fan of CZJ (and not just because of her slightly disturbing marriage to old-enough-to-know-better Michael Douglas, though that helps). She's just never really clicked in any movie I've seen (though she came close in Chicago). She's gorgeous, yes, but there's just something about her acting that's ... cold? I can't quite put my finger on it.
The highlight of the day was definitely hanging with the fam. My little sister isn't having any luck finding a teaching job (she's super smart, so if you know of an open high-school history teacher position, let me know); I hate not being able to just help her out. I can give her money and I can read over her résumé, but other than that, all I can do is sympathize. I hate that. I'm her big sister, dammit. I love my family. They drive me totally nuts sometimes, but they keep me grounded. Every time I've seriously considered leaving the area, I've realized it would mean leaving my family behind. And I don't know if I'll ever be willing to do that.
posted @ 7:40 PM |
Saturday, October 11
It's all my fault
I apologize to Boston, the state of Massachusetts, and Red Sox fans everywhere.
I watched the game.
posted @ 8:14 PM |
Down time
For once, I don't have my entire weekend planned, so I slept in (I love sleeping. I can do it all day. I only forced myself to get up because there are movies I want to see). And now I'm doing my time online, but it's going to be a pretty short session because I think everyone else is actually doing stuff -- no e-mail to read, no blogs to catch up on. I have to work this weekend, but I can't decide if I should do several hours each day, or do it all in one concentrated block and get it over with. If I hold true to form, I'll likely do it all in a block on Monday night and curse my stupid, procrastinating self all the while. Ahh, self-knowledge. Ain't it grand?
posted @ 10:43 AM |
Friday, October 10
Like a whole other country
As you may have surmised, Boston is going crazy with Red Sox fever. For some reason, fans have adopted the phrase "Cowboy Up" as their new motto. Now, I haven't been following the Sox that much (like any good Sox fan, I have my superstitions. They lose when I watch them. If I watch Trading Spaces, they win. I'm sticking with my game plan until the end), so I don't know how this phrase originated. But I am a diligent reporter-type chica, so I asked my friend from Texas what the hell everyone is talking about.
His response? "Cowboy up means pull your shit together, toughen up, do what it takes, fight through the pain, transcend the moment, be great. Generally it means be the man."
Okay, then. Let's cowboy up, folks.
posted @ 7:45 AM |
Thursday, October 9
Looks can be deceiving
Because, really, Sam is a vicious pit bull. Okay, no, he's not. Look at his puppy face! Although, if you tried to take that mega-chewy from him, he would put up a decent fight.
I was forced to put this image up by my roommate. She is also vicious, though not a pit bull.
posted @ 12:23 PM |
Things have never been so swell
I finally purchased a copy of Nirvana, and as I hoped/feared, I am enjoying it immensely. I will admit that when Nirvana was first popular (you know, when I was young), I didn't like them because, well, because everyone else did. (You may not have noticed, but I can be a little immature at times. This resentment of things that everyone else deems "amazing" has also led to a lifelong hatred of anything touched by Woody Allen and the movie The Usual Suspects.)
Perhaps I'm only now ready for Nirvana. I've found myself liking angry music more and more in my dotage, and I'm confounded as to why. I was a fairly angry teen (though that anger lent itself to causes like feminism, animal rights, and rooting for any doomed-to-fail Democrat running for office), but my friends tended to think me more bitter than pissed off. I'm still bitter (and still pissed off), but I don't think you can truly understand impotent rage until you have to go to work every single f-ing day. (Okay, and driving in Boston traffic helps, too.)
posted @ 10:44 AM |
Wednesday, October 8
The hostess with the ...
Completely empty refrigerator. Yup, that's right, I finally got a member of my family to come to The City and stay with me, and I was totally unprepared. We ordered out for pizza (but it was from Bella Luna, so you know that was a good time) and watched the Trading Spaces 100 Grand. It was strange but nice -- it was my older sister (by five years) and typically I go to her house for things (because, well, she has her own house, people). She cooks and makes sure there are "appetizers" and dessert (she makes a kick-ass oatmeal scotchie). The whole experience made me feel ... grown-up, yet at the same time, unprepared for such adult activities. It wasn't until Jen commented on how nice my sister was that it really hit me: I don't fight with my sisters anymore (okay, not much anyway). We've reached that elusive stage where we've become ... friends.
That's some freaky shit, people. Don't let it happen to you.
posted @ 11:19 AM |
Tuesday, October 7
The end of an era
Congratulations, Biz. Don't forget to write.
posted @ 1:12 PM |
Red Sox Rule
Was Lowe trying to kill me? What a game. What a team.
Those are my boys.
posted @ 5:35 AM |
Monday, October 6
And now for something completely different
I'm having a hard time readjusting to a non-blogger-based world, i.e., I'm at work. For those of you who've seen Being John Malkovich (yes, that's where I stole my blog title), this weekend was two days of malkovich-malkovich-malkovich -- just replace "malkovich" with "blog." Luckily, I can have lunch with Stone for a small fix of blogging to ease back into the real world. I'm trying to make this the last of my BloggerCon posts because, really, it's all been done (and done better) by others. And I really need to do some things that are not hypertextualized.
That said, here's quick rundown inside the mind of JenGarrett at BloggerCon:
- Why didn't I bring my laptop? It's just as cute as everyone else's. Oh, yeah, that's right, I can't listen, think, and type at the same time. How do these people think without a pen to twirl?
- On Weblogs and Journalism: Blogs are reality TV (oh, shit, I hate reality TV). Ed Cone says that nothing is closed to the "press" anymore because everyone is a potential journalist. What does this do to the idea of being "on the record"? How does this limit the idea of the public vs. private?
- The idea of maintaing a blog "as long as it’s fun": Sometimes my blog is difficult, and frustrating, and infuriating, and … fun. Sometimes I get the most value out of a post that was the least fun to write.
- On Blogging and Education: Someone from the audience asked if blogging was a life skill, or if, like singing, some should only do it at home? Kaye Trammell said that a blog offers a voice to those who want to speak. (And I, apparently, never want to shut up.)
- Why are we using blogging in education? We're attendees of short-attention-span theater already; why should we teach students to write in short bursts, without the kind of editing we claim is valuable? Do you need to learn how to write five pages well before you learn to write five lines well?
- From the Cluetrain Manifesto: Elizabeth Spiers doesn't look how I thought she would, and somehow, her voice doesn't match her face. Adam Curry says "we're all routers." Nuh-uh, not me.
posted @ 10:48 AM |
Sunday, October 5
Take 2
BloggerCon day 2 had some ... interesting moments. I hit the Blogging 101 session because I wanted to see what newbies are asking (and I can't believe it, but I don't remember what it was like when I was but a young blogging lass, lo, those nine months ago). Then we sat in on some interesting discussion of the technology and use of audioblogging, and then it was Winer's turn to wrap things up. At some point during the last session, we were all led in a sing-along of "Born to Be Wild" accompanied by an accordion. This is not your father's BloggerCon!
I've got lots more thoughts to share (like next year, I would like to see some vendors there ... and I don't care what Dave says, but it was basically "all Radio, all the time" without other providers present), but I have a guest coming so I'll have to post more later. Hopefully.
posted @ 4:27 PM |
Saturday, October 4
Smoking in the boys' room
Today was day one of BloggerCon, and it was a wild ride. First, the men definitely outnumbered the women. How could I tell? For once in my life, there was no line for the ladies' room. However, I did have to pass by the gauntlet of men waiting patiently. Second, the style of commenting definitely lent itself to the more ... masculine personality, let's say. Women tend not to like to interrupt (I'd point to some cool sociological study that backs me up, but I'm too tired to look for it. Just trust me on this one), but the men didn't let that hold them back from saying what was on their mind. Finally, one woman just busted out and said her piece, sans microphone. I was very proud. (I just made comments under my breath to Stone, who was hanging out in the back of the room with me.)
Lots of cool things were discussed and I have never been allowed to talk about blogging so much and so freely with people who didn't immediately have a panicked, "please god, get me out of here" look on their faces when the word "blog" left my mouth. It was also cool to meet a wide variety of the blogosphere, including Erin, Sooz, Shannon, Jason Goldman of Blogger fame, Lis, and Roland, as well as to run into Halley in the bathroom and to see Adam Curry up close and personal (what an '80s flashback that was).
As promised, I have pages of handwritten notes, but there is no way in hell I'm posting them now. Major kudos (and a happy birthday) to Wendy for a job well done.
posted @ 5:46 PM |
Friday, October 3
A mixed bag
In honor of my scattered thought processes tonight, I give you a blog with no cohesive theme. (Yeah, like that's unusual for me).
First, I love my readers. Steve sent me a logo to iron on the back of my Blogger sweatshirt. (You all remember Steve from the great quinoa controversy of 2003.) If I can actually get the color to print right, it will look like my banner. And I think everyone should have at least one article of clothing that says my name and "Every day an adventure in mediocrity."
Second, I almost did the Friday Five today, as it relates to cars and I love cars. But I think all the answers have been posted to this blog already -- you all know I drive a beat Saturn for which I have an odd fondness, and I think we all know that if I could have any car I wanted it would either be an Eclipse (red, baby, yeah) or a Maserati (silver? red? Tough call). These are cars I would put out for. And you can't make me feel bad about that.
Third, I blame my scatteredness on two things: I spent the evening cleaning my apartment as I'm going to be gone for most of the weekend (and the visitors are coming! the visitors are coming!). And in the middle of the great sweeping extravaganza, he-who-shall-not-be-named called and threw me completely off my game. Ever notice how normally you present yourself as a reasonably sane and intelligent human being and other times you're a complete ninny? Yeah. Ninny. Big time.
BloggerCon tomorrow, bright and early. I must to bed.
posted @ 8:23 PM |
I like to pay for things
I'm testing out Sideblog Premium, and I've discovered that I like to pay for things. I dig free Blogger, but when it comes to my little add-ons (comments, sideblog, etc.), I dig paying the programming fiends out there for their hard work.
Update: Dude, I don't know enough CSS. My sideblog does not look how I want it to. I sense some serious time with my (previously unread) tech books when I get home tonight.
posted @ 8:55 AM |
Thursday, October 2
Joyful girl
Someone gave me a Blogger sweatshirt today. And despite Leigh calling me a raging dork, I love it in a ridiculous fashion.
(In addition to her defamatory remarks, Leigh did suggest a good addition to the sweatshirt -- a being jennifer garrett logo on the back. Now all I need is a logo and decal. Get on it, people.)
posted @ 8:47 AM |
Do you feel like swimming?
I always forget that I have quite a collection of kick-ass CDs. Sure, with 250ish discs, I've got some crap, too, but I've got lots of stuff I'd forgotten that I really really like. This morning, I felt Like Swimming, and I listened to it on the way to work. If you're not a Morphine fan, a) why not? and b) you should be. I'd forgotten how sexy I Know You is (and I think I may have forgotten how sexy it is when you actually do know someone that well) and how Empty Box kills me every time.
I'm giving myself a new project (no, I haven't finished the last one yet): I'm putting all my favorite songs on the iBook. That way, I can listen to all the songs I love (like Big Empty by STP) without trolling through the crap I don't (almost everything else on the Crow soundtrack).
posted @ 6:55 AM |
Wednesday, October 1
Homework
As soon as I have the time, I'm visiting every freaking blog on this list. I like to be prepared.
I already visit some regularly, so I'm ahead of the game. Nice.
posted @ 11:15 AM |
Take the wheel and drive
More and more, I am finding myself places, unable to remember how I got there. I don't remember going through that intersection. Was the light even green? I'm not dead, so it must have been.
So, I find myself in October now, with no memory of how I got here. Was it ever summer? It must have been, because the leaves are changing and the air is cold and fall is in full bloom.
posted @ 6:20 AM |