dreaming of...

it's grey and wet here in new york. and cold.
i can hardly fathom how long this winter has gone on.
i have yet to take my inaugural spring walk through central park. yet to enjoy an afternoon sitting on the benches in fort tryon. yet to consume my first sidewalk meal of the season (and much as i don't care for the city sometimes, eating outside as the crowds careen by is one of the great joys of my life).

but i believe--i have to believe--that spring is near. that time of year when i can subsist on nothing but iced lattes--when the feel of an ice cream cone in my hand against a breeze that promises summer is the highlight of the fading day.

so the promise--or hope--of spring has me thinking of clean lines, lace curtains, white, bay windows, stripes, and...breakfast foods (as it turns out).

photo credits:

cinnamon buns

striped sweater

afternoon tea

lace curtains

bay windows

girl in window

pancake

a list.

i start shaking now--when something upsets me.
visibly.
it would be embarrassing but that it only happens in private.

my favorite pair of shoes cost a mere twenty-two dollars.
twenty-two dollars, i say!

the stress of (not) moving is giving way to thoughts of potted plants, easter brunches, and open windows.

i like to sleep with my feet hanging off the bed.
or diagonally.
depending on my mood.

there's nothing i like quite so much as climbing under the covers immediately following a bath.

speaking of lists, a friend recently listed all of my failed romantic ventures.
all together, on paper, they seem a bit laughable.
but they are mine and i claim them as such.

(and yes, my legs are so white they actually glow.
and i am not--i repeat--not ashamed).

someone i loved once gave me a box full of darkness. 
it took me years to understand that this too, was a gift.

mary oliver

thank you micaela for this

just a thought. a fleeting, passing, unforgivable thought.

the girl's greatest fear--if the girl was really honest with herself--was that you could find the man--the man you'd follow to the ends of the earth--the man for whom you'd lay down your life and sacrifice and work and love for--and that he'd then find that woman. in someone else.

because the fairy tales told as a child never allowed for this possibility. and perhaps they should have?

the (non) move.

monday mornings can be hard. most difficult when the week threatens to undo you before it even begins. 

yesterday i marveled at the shifting light now hitting new york. i walked along the river and watched as bicyclist after bicyclist pedaled past. this corner of new york is dare i say, something of a bike mecca. i noticed young men with rackets on their backs headed to the free tennis courts just down the hill. suddenly the neighborhood is alive and threatened with the prospect of having to leave it, i simply don't want to. 

much as a part of me is ready to leave new york, it's not time yet. and it wouldn't be so easy. tumultuous as our relationship is, we have mutual accounts, joint stock options, and suddenly a lot of furniture that i don't want to give up. 

so i've decided to stay. for another year at least. which means another year in my castle in the sky apartment. but not moving can prove unbelievably stressful.

and there's nothing like moving (or not moving in new york). the whole things is a giant game of roulette combined with cat-and-mouse, and even a little strategic chess (or battleship, depending on where your preferences lie). and then there's that pesky little sticking point: it's expensive. and not terribly well-managed or policed. 

so this is the week that i roll the die. cast a net out in search of a roommate and hope that all the little card houses i've built add up to something...viable, instead of crashing down around my feet.

of course there's not enough time for any of this...but such is life.

so i remind myself to breathe and throw a little prayer up towards the powers that be, a little help?