an open letter to the ladies.

(standing in the driveway drinking mimosas in the sun.
a glorious way to start out a st. patrick's day.)


to my ladies:

i woke up this morning at six. i floated in and out of conciousness
until about six twenty, giving me ten minutes to get out of bed, put
my contacts in, put some clothes on and drive to work. this isn't
enough time.

i had a glorious weekend.

as i sat in the airport waiting for my (delayed) flight to leave, sad
songs kept playing in my headphones. this didn't help the melancholy.
i felt like i was coming down from a really good drug trip.

my life felt really quiet, sitting in my apartment by myself. i spent
about five minutes looking at emails, checking the ol' "space" and
importing photos. and i spent the next ten minutes just sitting. hazel
was curled up in the covers on my bed and everything was still. it
felt odd. i love living by myself, but right then i wished i had
someone sprawled out on the sofa reading bukowski, someone sitting at
the kitchen table pecking away at a typewriter, someone sitting in my
rocking chair thumbing through a stack of record albums and someone
sitting on my front stoop smoking a cigarette. i fell asleep with a
pen in my hand - i was right (write!) in the middle of jotting down
things i wanted to be sure to remember, a Weekend Recipe of sorts, an
Instruction Manual for Having Fun.

we should do that again sometime because well.. it doesn't get much
better than that.

i love and miss you both.
sara