disclaimer: two years later

i get sad after christmas. in my stomach. a wet sponge of sadness. heavy and porous all at once.

the lines on my forehead are deepening. the skin around my eyes becoming ever-more fragile.

i sleep with the humidifier on. and i wake early just so i have time to read before the day begins.

my left eye still leaks. not much to do about that. it simply is, this little leak.

when no on is home, i pump up the music and remember how as a little girl i would pull out my big-bird-record-player and my father would move the living room furniture and we'd dance. oh, how we'd dance!

i don't have bangs now, i'm incredibly vain about my eyelashes, and i'm highly susceptible to any sort of sales-pitch. (one might in fact call me gullible. and they might in fact be right).

i love riding a bike. and i still yearn for a vespa--in my toes i yearn for it.

i long for a year in europe. the consumption of lattes without restraint. open-air piazzas and history etched into every nook. i long for trains and the lilting musicality of an unknown language.

i think a person can be a million things. things that seemingly stand in direct opposition. there is no end. nothing more stunning than a little humanity. or humility.

i want nothing so much as a little balcony. just off our apartment. wrought-iron fencing. and plants!

i want a life lived in color. vibrant and deep.

i believe in dressing up. for the theatre. for church. for morning meetings and nights out. i believe how we dress ourselves is an unconscious indicator of how we'd like to be treated. (i actually like panty-hose).


i'm a firm believer in strict-parenting. and boundaries. that education begins at home. and education, more than anything, will change this world. it transcends party lines, divisions between culture and country--it is the great equalizer (in the best possible way).
i believe that pleases and thank yous speak volumes of a person's character. that an unsolicited smile is a profound act of kindness. and that the more love a person cultivates for himself, the more he then delivers freely into the world. (and surely this world needs a little more love).

and yes, i climb onto soap-boxes more often than i should.
and yes, i get passionate--such is my cross.

and i'm so much better. so much better than two years ago when i first wrote this. so much better. so much fuller. so much more myself.

so much more aware that this christmas sadness will pass. that all things pass. that things change and deepen.

and that this life, hard as it is, is so damn worth it.

just so you know.

love,
me