the post about absolutely nothing. the brain has gone.

in




i feel like i should have a grand story for you. some kind of recompense for my time away from this blogspot lover of mine.


nothing. i have nothing to give you.

i was spending time with my mom and aunt. but you knew that.

all i can say is that it was uneventful in the best possible way. trips to nordstrom (getting our makeup done), the christmas tree shop, bed, bath, and beyond. breakfasts in front of regis and kelly. home-cooked dinners at my aunt's house. running to get out of the rain. falling asleep on the couch at night.

oh and listening to the endless stories about their trip to morocco with a former ambassador.
needless to say, i was quite jealous, and would like to go. myself. immediately. (oh, with an ambassador in tow, if i could swing it {though seems doubtful}).

but there was not enough time. never is.

this is all to say that i am back. and that i enjoy eating out of bowls more than off of plates. and i cannot stand the sound of gum being chewed. that is all. thank you.


worth.

in , ,

he was older. dated often. jewish. born and bred in this city of skyscrapers.

i was--well, am--still young. an inexperienced dater (to put it mildly). catholic. from a city situated on bayous.

so many differences.

if i had known these things--if he had known, perhaps it wouldn't have begun.

the age alone made it difficult.

but i liked him before i knew. and when i did know, well, then it became just a number.

i asked him early on if he'd ever been married. ever proposed to anyone. those were the things that seemed important. he said no, asked if i needed to know why not. nope. not important, i said.

later, without prompting, he said, i'm not a settler. and never had more perfect words been spoken. and i loved him for that perfect, unprompted response.

and yet. that became the thing. the thing that nailed me in the end.

it was when i realized i was just another girl not worth settling for that my heart began to break.

perhaps, that's too simplistic. but that's what i felt.

i miss him. and i think about him. more often than i'd care to admit. certainly, more often than i'd care for him to know. but maybe the hardest thing has been coping with the knowledge that for him i just wasn't worth it. which becomes am i worth it? which of course, yes, yes, i know that i am.

but it's never about knowing so much as feeling, is it?

and for a while there i felt...unworthy. mediocre. like the kind of girl you can't bring home to mom.

don't get me wrong, i was not looking to meet mom. i just wanted to feel... i just wanted to feel. i don't know. better than that.

the ego takes a hit. and it's coming back to yourself that takes some time.

but a week ago when american pie came on the radio it stirred the low-country girl in me. and i shimmied around my room chasing the sunlight and laughing at my oddities. and the journey home to self trucked right along.

but it takes some time, this truckin'.

it surely takes some time.


oops.

in

i don't know what day it is.

i am not even sure where i live anymore. (i've been shuttling between my aunt's house in montclair and my apartment in the city).

i didn't mean to step away from here for so long.

but between my mother's visit and preparing to depart nyc in two weeks (and not return until september 18 {euf}), i actually feel my mind slipping through my fingers.

so forgive me. please, forgive me.

right now we're squeezing in a little last mother-daughter time. we're watching the bachelorette (what's with the bad hair extensions?) though my mother is occasionally (often, actually) changing the channel because (in her own words):


it makes her uncomfortable when they toot their own horn so hard.



this is all to say, i have not disappeared. i'll be back. tomorrow, in fact. (i think. i hope).

ruined.

in ,

the harlot house.
that was my first thought when attempting to recall the name of my new apartment building, just after moving in.

my second thought being, that can't be right.

incidentally, i fear this will be the apartment that ruins me for all other apartments. but it has nothing to do with harlots and everything to do with sunlight, space, endless wood floors, french doors, and a view of the hudson for which there are no words.




(now if i could just do something about that darn A train)