sammy's.

i told you i went to sammy's. i got the mint oreo pie shake. (yes, that means a whole slice of pie was actually blended up into it). and i'll tell you what: it may have taken the girl 15 minutes to make the darn thing, but it was worth the wait. i got to spend time with my friend aubrey who told me beautiful stories. i spent the night covered in goose pimples, and i'm pretty sure they were only partly a product of the ice cream.

nothing soothes the soul quite like saying goodbye to some dead-ends.

it has been an interesting couple of days for me here in provo. perhaps, it is the ending of the honeymoon period--the realization that this is no two week vacation, but rather a three month plopping of the soul in unchartered land.

there are things i miss about new york. like running to the corner store for the raspberries i forgot to get at the market. or evenings on the upper west side when the city finally begins to cool and the streets are empty. love never seems so possible as on a summer evening in new york.

yet even as i write this, i balk at the audacity of saying i miss new york. i mean i do, yes, but utah is so lovely. and the people are so lovely. and guys actually smile at me as i sit slurping my oreo milkshake on the sidewalk outside of sammy's and i feel...dare i say it...beautiful. so while i'm not quite sure how or when or even why my little funk began, it persisted today.

that is, until my haircut.

lisa emailed me when i posted about needing to trim my runaway mane and immediately i knew she was my gal. she's been cutting hair for five years now, working at a well-known salon in salt lake before leaving to take care of her baby boy. currently she works out of a salon in her friend's basement in sandy.

lisa was unbelievably kind and her friend's salon is amazing: dark wood floors, flattering (and very forgiving) lighting, and all the amenities of a normal salon. and here's the kicker, $25 for a haircut. yup, that's it. i just about fell off the seat when she told me that. i pay more than twice that in new york for half (not even) the experience. score-keeper, point to utah, please.

the best part is i left feeling lighter: the funk had begun to lift.

to contact lisa about haircuts and the like: lisabug_14@hotmail.com

because more often than not, i have nothing of interest to say.

i was going to come up with something clever to write in this late part of the night. early morning. whatever you choose to call it.

instead i pulled precisely one vanilla mochi (japanese ice cream) from the fridge, turned on season one of the west wing and called it a day.

the staving off of white.

maybe i have some gray hair. and maybe i've had it since the eighth grade. maybe i can't listen to nick drake without crying. and maybe there are moments that i think i'll never be pretty enough. never thin enough. maybe i'm selfish. and maybe i'm shy. maybe i'd sit on nothing but barstools for the rest of my life if given the chance. the kind with the red, plush, round top. the kind that spins. maybe the thing i'm most afraid of is not being able to write. the absence of words on a page. and maybe i'm trying. and maybe i'm failing. and maybe and maybe. and a maybe this life is nothing more than the chasing of light through the physical body.

an adventure (vacation?) for the mind.

i came to utah to work on some things. to work on myself, i suppose.

to grow in many directions all at once.

and as i attempt to figure things out, i can feel my mind rearranging itself. taking down all the old books and bowls and folded photos. restructuring. new shelves. different dimensions.

but this restructuring is somewhat... terrifying. i find myself dreaming of things i haven't dreamt of in years. half-nightmares. waking face first in a water-logged pillow struggling to catch my breath.

these dreams, these dreams i can deal with.

it's the slow, inching, creeping of my memory away from me that brings on terror. it's as though someone is covering over the green of the all england tennis club with a protective tarp. that slow and steady cover up--preventing the ping-pong collision of past and present.

and i am left waiting for the rain.

but the brain is pretty smart, no? and it knows when remodeling is in order.

so come on rain. the playing field is protected. and i'm ready for a little slip-and-slide.