there are so many things I am afraid to forget...so many things that I get overwhelmed by remembering them, for fear that they may have been lost forever if I had not suddenly recalled them. then I hold those memories tightly, strangling them, strangling myself.

tonight was beautiful. tonight was an unexpected miracle. my lj group. we told stories, ate cookies, laughed until my cheeks hurt, and stayed up late for the second night in a row. I love hearing life stories, and interviewing people about what they've learned and laughing and crying together and understanding that that is exactly how life works. its normal. and still we have joy.

it helped me realize that maybe being afraid of forgetting people or moments distracts from having new moments...maybe I need to learn to be content with having been a part of someone's life, and not drowned myself in the guilt of having lost touch...maybe it's the fear of loneliness making its ugly self known even when I am not alone...

I am overwhelmed by beauty past and present. so much so that sometimes I find it hard to function and breathe...and then reality sets in tearing each stitch of perfection out slowly and reminding me that the fabric it holds is rough and worn, but without it there would be no reason for stitches.

I felt God pulsing through my veins on the drive home after dropping them off. It felt perfect.

narcissism..and birds

Though hesitant to do so, the blog has begun.

Hesitant for two reasons:
1. memories of Xanga
2. I just wrote a paper about blogs being narcissistic.

Perhaps poetry will pour out of me in the future but more likely thoughts. Just thoughts. Tidbits. (these things called blogs are not all that healthy for obsessive personalities...)

So to begin...

Today has been for the birds, but not bad in the least. My peanut-buttered toast smelled like baby chickens for about half a second this afternoon. Sometimes things just smell like other things and as I was about to put the toast in my mouth I got the image of a fuzzy yellow chick and was confused. Then I realized why. And as quick as that it smelled like peanut-butter toast again.

This morning, the seagulls screamed in protest as I stomped off my summery shoes of their too-thick-for-March-almost-April coat of snow while leaving work. I considered how angry I'd be if I were seagull and flew in to find sunshine and "What is this? snow?" all over the ground...and the cars...and the lakes.....and people's shoes...and the beach...So I laughed to myself in the parking lot as they shouted. I laughed out of sheer pity for those angry birds.... and my socks were a bit wet.

--it's hard to narrow your thoughts when you begin a blog...you have everything before you...and nothing behind--