these were the words i took away after seeing the final installment of the harry potter journey

words are, in my not so humble opinion,
our most inexhaustible source of magic. 

harry potter and the deathly hallows








dear j. k. rowling, 


thank you for illuminating the world. and showing us we already have all the tools to change it. 


sincerely,


your faithful reader--one whose only act of schoolgirl rebellion was to sit in the back of eighth-grade american history with the sorcerer's stone on her lap, just below her desk, hoping no one would catch her

escape.

one of the best pieces of advice i ever got was as follows:

do five things you don't want to do. and do them all before noon.

some days, like today, the list begins with (1) getting out of bed and (2) taking a shower. and i continue on from there.

i don't know if it's the heat, the long days of summer or what but i've been feeling a lot like turning on my "no vacancy" light. there are things i simply don't want to deal with.

i'm starting to think i should be sequestered to a remote island for the coming month where my interaction with people will be minimal.

actually, come to think of it, a month in natural sunshine, by real water, far away from the concerns of every-day-life...that's ideal.

hmmm. how do i make that happen?

photos by: 

liivia s (1)

antipodeuse (2, 3)

my manhattan: and summer rushes in.

{i am a terrible person in this heat. it turns me into an utterly horrible human being}.

for anyone who wishes to enjoy the real new york i invite you to come stay in a prewar apartment--an apartment without central air. let's make it a sixth floor walk-up, shall we (just for kicks)? sixth floor walk-up means no elevator.

now i invite you to bring your groceries up those six-flights into your non-airconditioned apartment. keep in mind it's 100 degrees and new york humidity rivals the very best (i'm from houston, so i should know). remember that in order to get those groceries you had to head into the bowels of the city and travel on a steal contraption (the subway) with countless other terrible human beings (made so by the heat) where you fought tooth and nail to get a small basket through narrow aisles and to not be run over by women half-a-foot shorter who've lived in new york so long they give the word entitlement new meaning.

this is just a slice of life right now.

winter here is long and hard. and i always suffer a little bout of sadness. the thing is, i'm starting to think the heat has the same effect.

the texan in me knows little more to do than pray--pray for the sweet release of a thunderstorm.

thank goodness for sunday brunches with the best of girlfriends, friday night viewings of harry potter, and thai papaya salads to keep me from all-together-falling-apart.

here's to hoping this next week the rain comes, things cool off a bit, and my friends continue to tolerate my changing disposition.

when i start to get sad,