Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Since China, and the most severe jet lag of my life,
I've been feeling a restlessness and anxiety that tickles menacingly like mucus lodged in the throat, the way only a recent college graduate with no immediate plans knows how to feel. I've hurled the adjectives "helpless", "directionless", and a number of other "less" words in the direction of chat boxes, journal entries, and mirrors.
Also, entry and update less. For this I apologize, to a wide world of maybe five readers, and myself. Sometimes time spent wallowing in self pity becomes enveloping. Looking through my paper-pen journal, I realized that somewhere in that time I managed to pick myself up and actually DO a few things.
So began the year 22, with Langston Hughes,and Jessye Norman, champagne and grapes (not champagne grapes-- they're too sweet for my taste). A week of celebrating continued with cleaning up the apartment in LA, my first traipsing through the Hollywood Walk of Fame (believe it or not, I had never been even with all the years here, my first birthday tango dance, and meals upon meals of delightful squeals. Tried a number of new restaurants, and went bowling. And that was only one week.
Not so bad after all. Someone snidely said that in palindrome years such as this, the second half mirrors the first. Well. If that first week was any indication of how it'd go, I wouldn't mind at all.
at 4:49 PM