Moment in time

Last night, I vacuumed the rugs while he played his horn.

Laughing out loud

I love when I'm laughing in my dream and then I wake up because I'm also laughing out loud. (It's why I'm up so early this morning).

In my dreams

Last night I dreamed my friend Tai and I were talking about all the places we'd traveled. I dreamed she'd visited with Cristian, who was visiting his mother, who was visiting Miami. I dreamed I was in a room with Stephen Colbert, and he was making me laugh really hard.

I dreamed I had a new job in a small office, and was given a crappy little desk. I announced to everyone, "Hey, thanks for the crappy little desk, now I can do some crappy little work!" My coworkers looked at me with understanding and in agreement, but also with resignation. Soon an office manager walked in and handed me a set of keys. "These are for you," she said, "But they won't unlock anything."

In real time

It's a gray day and the sun breaks through, my sweetheart still sleeps and his dog Loki chews a bone at my feet. There's a bird outside my window trying to tell me something, or maybe it's just sitting there, and I only imagine the rest.

The way things aren't

I thought I saw a sign that said, "Udder College," but it actually said, "Urban Cottage."

Just around the corner

We met for the first time at the corner cafe. He looked at me with a side glance, curious and smiling. The conversation flowed until he said he was leaving town for good.

Almost 4 weeks later, I met him again at the same cafe. He had made his move to the mid-west, and was back in New York to tie up loose ends. He looked at me with a side glance, curious and smiling and something more. We kissed, we courted, then returned together to St. Louis to retrieve his things.

For years he lived just around the corner. Now he lives with me.

Cleaning day

Opening my heart to someone at twenty-six was like being on a train. I bought a ticket and gave little thought to the speed I was traveling, or to whether or not I was on the right track. At forty-six, I still want the rush and I crave the unknown, but I'm also aware of reckless rides and roadblocks, and how to avoid a crash.

I want to clear shelf space for him, put his toothbrush next to mine--create a sanctuary so, at the end of the day when he's done slaying dragons, he can return to a place of peace. I want to wash his socks and iron his shirts, and see the appreciation in his eyes when I do. My feminine gifts are domestic in form, physical, and spiritual--each one offered in return for all he gives me.

I'm learning a song on the guitar, and the words go like this:

Please, don't let me down this time-
I've come a long way just to fall back into line.

I've been singing those lyrics for two weeks now, silently asking him to please not let me down. But today, after running another load of laundry and stacking dry silverware into a drawer, I made time to practice my guitar. And the minute I sang that line, I cried because I knew it wasn't he who could let me down, it was me.

He requires nothing I don't already possess, demands nothing I don't give freely, but if I'm not careful, I could dedicate my life to being me, for him. I could let go of my blog, my book, my guitar and then my song--and if my song goes, so do I.

"Don't have faith in me," he said this morning. "Have faith in yourself."

I didn't have to process it or test to see if it was true.

So I'll cook when I cook and when I don't, there's take-out. I'll clean when I clean and when I don't, there's tomorrow. I'll run by the river, write my book and I'll learn new songs, and I'll remember that the sanctuary he longs for won't be found in an empty sink, but in the full and fulfilled heart of the woman he loves.

Whatta man

He's cowboy cool, wood-chopping cool with a sophisticated mind. A tough guy with a gentle heart. If he's been hurt, you'd never know it by looking into his brown eyes. He speaks another language fluently, he's 48 and has the body of an adonis. He has broad shoulders and a smile that melts me. He plays the trumpet and rides his motorcycle fast. He lights up with pride when he sits beside his son. He wants everyone around him to be better than they are---he wants to be better than he is, and he's set on a new beginning. His kisses are like movie make-believe, but they're real and they're for me. He sits in my kitchen and talks with me while I cook for him. He has soft, dark blond hair with gray sprinkled in like subtle spice. When he wears a pea coat, I imagine him on the Cape writing his nest novel. When I get out of the bed in the middle of the night he whispers, "Are you OK., baby?"

He drinks scotch and he loves his mother, and he recognized me the moment we met. He plays with me and pleases me, and my heart is so open I can't help being afraid. He tells me I am a beautiful creature, and that he would have been a fool not to love me. And I would be a fool not to love him, so I do.

Thoughts in real time

There's so much to say and nothing to say so I can't say a thing. I've found someone and it makes no sense, and it makes perfect sense, and he makes sense of it all.

Meet him in St. Louis

Flying out in the morning, driving back with him, home on Sunday. Bye, all.

Relative ride

Letting go of the reins can leave you out of control and in danger, or it can give you the freedom to do what comes naturally.

Gift

How amazing to fall in love in my twenties, feel all the sweetness, intensity and hope in the world and then, in my forties, do it all over again.

At the speed of sound

He's worked on fighter jets, but he's all lover, and life with him is going Mach 3.2

Risk

I don't want to ride in fast cars or roller coasters, I don't want to pop wheelies or play with fire. I don't want to open my heart, love, be loved and be left--but mostly, I don't want to say no.

Evolving 101

I answered the door, he pushed it open, he moved forward, I stepped back. I told him I felt as if I were crumbling--he told me what's crumbling might be my fear.

Pro choice

An obvious choice, a "right" choice, can manifest into something you never planned for, never envisioned and never wanted. A "wrong" choice, a reckless choice, can turn into something that wakes you up and sets you free. Regardless whether we label them "right" or "wrong," our choices will eventually transcend belief and perception, and become the design of our lives.

I've just been

I'm here

And the Universe is unfolding as it should.

Sitting at the sidebar

One Of These Things First by Nick Drake

Click on the music player to the right of this post.

Thoughts in real time

I don't like this job and I'm grateful to have it.

Car. Morning. Meter.

I wonder what I was doing today, at the exact moment that lady bug came into my apartment.

I saw a baby chipmunk.

Fucker.

Not the chipmunk.

Too tired for this.

Not cut out for this.

S.O.S.

Someone.

The garden

When a woman makes love, has she given something away, did she share something sacred, is she taken and returned, worshiped and exposed?

When a woman makes love, is she angel or whore, does she walk in dirt across a sunlit street, or is it all part of the same path?

Jesus, Buddha, Allah, legalize, criticize, until death do you part or love the one you're with--because all of it's true, and none of it's true, so we just try to take care.

Thought in real time

Is it just me, or is there something painfully beautiful and slightly melancholic about the fall?

Facebook & forget

When I was 16, I had a mad crush on a college boy. I never forgot him, not because he was particularly handsome or especially sweet, but because I bought two tickets for us to see Cheap Trick, and then gave him the tickets to hold. The day of the concert, I waited hours for him to pick me up, but he never did. When I called his house, his brother told me he had gone to the show with someone else.

Today, thirty years later, the boy befriended me on facebook, and what a laugh I had when I read a comment on his wall--a friend accusing him of pulling a no-show!

So glad time heals all wounds and God knows, even my bad memories are becoming good ones.

In my dreams

Last night I dreamed a man I recently met found me standing on the corner. He was smiling and sweet, and we started talking beside the mailbox. After a while, I noticed he had only one eye. There was no gap where the other eye should have been, just smooth skin, and as he spoke I was thinking he might look cute with a patch.

Suddenly and abruptly he said, "I have to go!" I looked at him and said, "No you don't, you don't have to go."

Happy Birthday Tai!

Secret: There's a gift coming, the old fashioned way.

Thoughts in real time

Other than my motorcycle boots and my Converse, I never know what kind of casual shoes to wear in the daytime.

Taking guitar lessons is proving to be transformative.

Why does "Transformative" come up as incorrectly spelled?

I'm constantly amazed by how careful people are.

I wish I were boarding a plane tomorrow.

I guess I do cry a lot, but really, I'm just deeply moved a lot.

Feelings, words, and declarations are gifts, but no one is here taking care of me.

Dirty kitchen.

Look how my daughter rolled up the toothpaste so nice. Look at the person I've raised.

Wow, it's late.

Thoughts in real time

To avoid the mundane, I lie to myself in some way every day.

It must be exhausting, all the effort, all the energy my young friends use to appear disinterested in each other. They are all so guarded and fragile. Wouldn't it be nice if they could free themselves now instead of twenty years from now?

The tattoo was the most extreme thing I could do in terms of a declaration. The only thing left would have been to jump off a bridge, but that's just not my style.

One of my greatest fears is that I will cease caring.

Drink more water.

Buy new music.

Sometimes when I make the bed, I imagine someone other than myself will sleep there.
Finish movie.

It's all been worth it.

Fold laundry.

Quote

There is only one success: to be able to spend your life in your own way.

~Christopher Morley

"The Professor"

The name given to me by my friend, Chloé.

Shadows and light

Last week I found myself partaking in superficial conversations, cigarette smoking, and too many cocktails named after me. There was no lack of good manners or good will, but at the bar I am a stranger in a strange land. Who knows, maybe everyone is.

At 2:00 a.m., as I walked home with someone I'd only met hours before, I asked myself: What am I doing, what do I expect, what do I want? And as I climbed his stairs, made my way through the hall and watched as he opened the door, I knew I was not exactly where I wanted to be, but would discover days later I was exactly where I needed to be.

With no interest in punishing myself for the obvious foolishness of going home with a man I didn't know, a man who possibly placed little if any value on me at all, I turned around and walked home.

There was a darkness in that night and in the nights that followed, but I understand that even when I'm making wrong choices, they are also right choices. Sometimes I have to dabble in what doesn't shine to be reminded where the light lives, and sometimes it takes a walk down a deserted street, through an unfriendly world of my own creation, to return me to the bright side where I know I belong.

Simple things, extraordinary color

Photos taken in Cairo by my friend Sari Ganulin--the kind of images that make me long to travel.

Mama mia!

Annie: "I wish I were Italian."

Me: "Why do you wish you were Italian?"

Annie: "Because everybody's Italian!"

In real time

Getting housework done, and my Arabic groove on.

Truer words

Life was never meant to be the straight and narrow road you were taught to envision. This lifetime was pre-programmed with such a rich itinerary of convoluted detours to the destination toward which you travel. It is the deviation from what you may have expected that makes this journey fascinating and rewarding in the ways that really matter.
~Rasha

Pure joy

From moment one, my guitar teacher made me believe it was not too late for me to learn, and that I was already armed with the tools I'd need to play a song. Last night I taught myself 4+20 by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, and tonight I was inspired to learn Landslide by Fleetwood Mac. After years of resisting an instrument, what a big and wonderful deal.

In real time

Getting ready for "The Concert For Pakistan" at the United Nations General Assembly Hall. Guests will include Salman Ahmad, Samir Chatterjee, Gavin Rossdale, Sting (via video), Jeff Skoll, and my dear friend, Yale Strom.

Thought in real time

Do what you have to do, be where you have to be, but try to end up where you want--with the one you want.

Eight years ago & almost to the hour

I'll never forget looking out my office window on Lafayette Street, watching all those firetrucks racing by. I'll never forget calling my mother and instructing her to stay inside, or the next four hours making my way north on silent streets. I'll never forget the weeks that followed-- frightened faces and helping hands, pictures of loved ones glued to every surface of the city, flying hopelessly in a burning sky.

I gotta feeling

More than any other age of my childhood, I remember being eleven. It was the year I first cared about my hair, coveted cool shoes, and dreamed of independence. It was the year music started riding shotgun in my life, and became my refuge, my own.

Annie is eleven, almost twelve, and her iPod is becoming more and more important. Tonight, after her second day of seventh grade, she flopped down on the sofa, offered me half of her headphones, and played me some songs.

"This is my favorite part!" She said as we huddled listening to Supertramp. "Right here, Mom, where the saxophone comes in, I love that!"

Her newly streaked reddish hair and rock 'n roll cut, her deep dimples, shining eyes and sweet smell; I couldn't help but move in closer, stare and smile, wishing I could climb inside her world as she mouthed the words.

"Do you like this?" She asked while playing the new Black Eyed Peas.

"I love this," I replied. "I love this."


Click the music player to hear what she hears, I Gotta Feeling you'll like it.

Thought in real time

What a gift to have one person in your life who, with just the sound of their smile, inspires your peace.

Upon reflection

My mom: "Katie, your last post, the one about love, it was such a beautiful piece of writing."

Me: "Thanks mom, that means a lot to me."

Mom: "And someday I'd like to sit down with you and have a philosophical discussion about your beliefs."

Me: "You mean you think my beliefs about love and romance are wrong?"

Mom: "Well, I don't want to say they're wrong."

Me: "But you think they're a little extreme?"

Mom: "Yes, maybe."

Me: "But here's the thing. I posted the piece as a way of saying that I'm not going to deny it. I'm not going to pretend that I feel anything different, because regardless of how I'm perceived, it is the way it is for me."

Mom: "Do you mean you posted it to cover your tracks?"

Me: "Cover my tracks?

Mom: "Yes. So let's say next time, when you write about love, you've already admitted everything so no one can accuse you of being too extreme."

Me: "No, that's not it. I'm not covering my tracks, I'm declaring it."

Mom: "Declaring it, okay, that makes more sense."

Me: "Also, I'm not saying that what I feel or want today will be what I feel or want tomorrow. I'm just talking about knowing myself, and knowing what I feel and want now. The thing is, I was married for 17 years and I know what love is. I know what it is with David, I know what it is with G., with C., and with A. My first serious relationship was when I was 17, and I know what that love is. I know the temporary kind, the cruel kind, and the kind in between. I have no illusions about my illusions, I'm not a 20-year-old girl holding out for something she saw in a movie. I'm a 46-year-old woman who, when it comes to love has a huge body of work to draw from, and who's earned the right to feel exactly what she feels, and want exactly what she wants, and have it change with no warning, and who makes no apologies for anything."

Mom: "You know what?"

Me: "What?"

Mom: "That makes complete sense to me."

Long pause.

Me: "Was that our philosophical discussion?"

Mom: "Yep!"

Fact# 489,004

This is my guitar teacher.

From the box to the bar

My current obsession, E.S.T.


Click music player to listen.

To Eyre is human

There is nothing more interesting to me than love and romance--people have their missions and mine has always been related to matters of the heart. Making a film was fun, editing television pays the rent, but it's what I feel when I'm in love that feeds and fuels me. It's the peace and the pain of it, the way it forces me awake and inspires me to walk on the edge of everything. It's how I learn to surrender and take refuge, to give and forgive, and give more after that.

Jane Eyre is my favorite book and my favorite love story, and even if the vacant side of my bed is never claimed by Mr. Rochester, I'll always believe that a great love is the highest form of art. Shakespeare, Neruda, and Brontë conjured up their visions, and I have one of my own.

Without looking or longing, I'll remain alone in a state of love before I share my life with a man whose connection to me is less than rare. I'll let the story write itself and then, just as it will, allow it to come to an end.

Thought in real time

I know what to do with all this loneliness, I just don't want to.

Leo horoscope by Rob Brezsny

No one knew there was coal in the United States until 1790. A hunter who was wandering near Pennsylvania's Broad Mountain stumbled upon it accidentally when his campfire lit up an outcropping of pure anthracite. That discovery was both a blessing and a curse; since then, the mining of coal has yielded abundant energy but also environmental degradation. I predict a metaphorically similar event for you in the coming days, Leo. You will inadvertently find a potentially enormous source of valuable fuel that will, like coal, present you with both rich opportunities and knotty dilemmas.

But Naughty dilemmas would make it worth while, no? kb.

For you

Thought in real time

Think of all the beauty, brilliance and radiance that goes unrealized and unexpressed.

My voice can soothe your pain

Dub Fx is a street-loop-beatboxer who uses Roland BOSS effect & loop pedals to create sounds which when layered creates a live musical construct. Enjoy.

In real time

Eggs boil, coffee brews, Bach plays.

Saturday morning music

God, I'm so lovin' this.

Thought in real time

Life is going by so fast.

Sitting at the sidebar

Un poco Paco

Entre Dos Aguas, by Paco de Lucia.

So lovely.

Mustang Memories

Originally posted January, 2007

Just before I turned 16, my father bought this 1967 Mustang for me to drive. Even though it wasn't yet considered a classic, it was a damn cool set of wheels, and it was everything to me. It represented endless possibilities and was the reason I couldn't wait to get out of bed in the morning. It was my first taste of freedom, my ticket to anywhere, at least anywhere in L.A..

I'll never forget the day I got my license, or the feeling I had when backing out of the driveway for the first time. It was like leaving each and every one of my teenage cares behind me. After dark, when I returned home, I was exhausted and shaking, and the odometer revealed all: day one out of the gate and I had driven 200 miles.

I slept in my bed and ate breakfast in the kitchen, but I lived in that car. I even gave her a name. Frankie. Driving her I played music non-stop, picked up friends and drove everywhere--to rock concerts, the beach, and through the hills of Hollywood.

Once, when returning from Malibu, I pulled up to a stoplight on Sunset Boulevard. In the car beside me was, by teenage girl standards, the hottest guy who ever lived. He looked at me and mouthed the words, “You’re beautiful.” I sat there speechless, and when the light turned green and he took off, I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was a wind-blown mop, my eyes bloodshot red, and my face burnt by the sun. But I felt like Cinderella sitting in her magic coach, and no clock striking twelve could ever take that away.

Painted black

I have a lot on my mind lately--generating more income, preparing my child for seventh grade, writing my memoirs, and of course health care reform. But I'm also manifesting a dream that began a year ago this month, one that started in color, but that I'm now contemplating in black and white.

Click here to see where it all began.

And I love her

It's easy to express my love when it's swimming down a peaceful stream, or drowning in a violent sea. It's easy to express my love to my child, because it's like the palm of my hand--just right there.

But when I think of my mother, the tears come on cue, but the words don't flow.

Even when I'm in her presence, I protect my own heart from what it feels for her. It's as if I open the door, I'll be left stranded in emotion with no way to express or describe it.

The love I have for my mother is love itself, and even if I could wrap it in ten thousand poetic words, it wouldn't be enough. The love I have for my mother lives in the baby I was, in a five-year-old girl, in who I am now, and in the old woman I will one day be.

Trains, pains, & automobiles

Something wonderful is here.

However you look at it

That's me.

What I want

Nine solid hours of sleep, a book I can't put down, thinner thighs and a long, slow kiss.

Fact #598,443

At the corner bar, a cocktail was named after me. "The Katie Lemonade."

Confession

I feel bad, because I don't feel bad, for the guy in the next building who coughs his lungs out all day and night.

Please

Sign this petition to stop the dolphin slaughter, scheduled to take place in two weeks in Taiji, Japan.

Click here.

Sitting at the sidebar

I have an apartment to clean, phone calls to make, and transcripts to read in preparation for a job. But instead, I'm remembering a song I used to love by Peter Frampton, downloading it, and posting it here at The Half Note.

Click the music player to listen.

Thought in real time

I miss the loud and silent way it felt to be loved.

The air up there

The view was not to be captured that night by my little pink camera. Musicians and appreciators spent time inside and rooftop. A clear black sky with white and smoke-gray clouds illuminating high above the city, and a thick slice of a half yellow moon hanging low over Central Park.

In an alternate reality

These are my wheels.

Fact #671,009

I can't be intensely attracted to a man unless he's got the devil in him.

In my dreams

This morning I woke from a dream, just one word whispered over and over:

Cadence... cadence... cadence...

In real time

Woke late and inspired, Lee Morgan plays, out the door for coffee, the city calls.

In real time

Stunning, sunny day, sitting by the open doors of the cafe. Cars zip, wind blows, laptop and coffee. Spiderman came in and gave me a kiss--it's actually Matt, a daytime regular, here with Nick, smiling pretty for the Half Note.

This is a song for you

Tonight I attended another great party hosted by my friend, David. Central Park West and a view of New York, and as always, inspired singers and musicians getting up to play. The vocalist pictured here had me in tears, because his voice was as sweet as the weather tonight, and because he was singing The Nearness of You.

Desire

David: "My daughter is lusting after a new iPhone, her mother is lusting after a new, expensive car, and all I'm lusting after is a clean apartment!"

Seen

Yesterday, my mother described me as a "Full-blown human being," and this morning, my ex-husband said I was "Autobiographical."

Thoughts in real time

I'll forgo an existence more balanced, and keep the butterflies and the bliss.

Today

I got tea, but no sympathy, from my friend Marcia.

Life is sweet.

Secret

I don't think a crush is worth much unless there's a dash of obsession mixed in.

Evolving 101

I don't know what's happening or what will happen, I'm not writing stories for life anymore. All I know is I like the way I feel, and if the feeling lasts only one more day, then I'll be grateful for the day. I'll need nothing more, until I need something more.

Unsolicited advice from me

Originally posted February, 2008

When you’re feeling less than yourself, get on the “A” train around 8:30 p.m., exit at 59th Street and go have a swim at the YMCA. Swim and swim and swim until you can’t swim anymore, then go another lap. Have yourself a steam bath and sweat the man who’s hurt you one too many times right out of your body, then sweat him no more. Take a long shower, wash your long hair, get dressed slowly. Say goodnight to the woman at the front desk, and when you exit onto the street, decide that instead of going home, you’ll walk twenty-three blocks up Broadway to see your mom. Stop and get a cappuccino to go (decaffeinated, it’s almost eleven after all), then continue north. Toss out your empty cup at 79th Street, and as you approach your mom’s place on 86th, notice how fast you move. Notice the weight of your backpack, the way your braid, wet from the shower, feels cold and heavy on your neck, and how your bright red sneakers peering out from blue jeans hit the ground. As you turn the corner enjoy the moment you feel 16 again, and because you do, you start to run. You run through the black iron gates of the building where your father lived and where you first kissed the man you’d marry. You wave at the doormen, who are waving at you, then bolt across the courtyard, past the fountain, through the glass doors and up the stairs. You turn the key and call, “Mom!” You’re bursting as you fly into her room, where she’s in her pajamas and in her bed. You take off your sneakers, toss your backpack, you are your mother’s child, and she smiles and shouts, “You look like a kid!”

Then notice how it feels to be 44 and 16 at the same time – tell your mother what hurts and listen to her wisdom. After a while let her close her eyes as you go into the kitchen and make yourself a slice of toast and jam. Then write it all down, shut off the computer, climb into bed and, feeling more like yourself than you did before, fall asleep next to your mom.

I mean, if you’re me.

A new chapter

I walked up to the counter at Barnes & Noble and dropped my stack of books in front of the cashier. He shuffled through my selections: The Truth About Bioidentical Hormones, Solutions For Women Over Forty, and When Your Hormones Go Haywire.

"And how are you today?" he asked.

Before I die

I want to dance to Dancing in the Dark by Cannonball Adderley--with a man I love.

It's at the sidebar~click the music player located on the upper right side of this page.

He woke up, the room was bare
He didn't see her anywhere,
He told himself he didn't care, pushed the window open wide,
Felt an emptiness inside, to which he just could not relate--
Brought on by a simple twist of fate.

~Bob Dylan

In real time

Out of a cold shower on a hot day--what to wear for a birthday celebration tonight?

Cleaning house

Finished with the laundry--how nice to be done, how nice to no longer feel like I'm hanging, how good to finally be free of that.

Leo horoscope by Rob Brezsny

Lately I haven't been inspired by what Brezsny has to say about Leos, but today my friend Tai was inspired enough to email me Rob's latest, and I am inspired enough to post it.

Leo: If you really knew how much you were loved, you would never cry again. A sublime relaxation would flood your nervous system, freeing you to see the beautiful secrets that your chronic fear has hidden from you. If you knew how much the world longs for your genius to bloom in its full glory, the peace that filled you would ensure you could not fail. You'd face every trial with eager equanimity. You would always know exactly what to do because your intuition would tell you in a myriad of subtle ways. And get this: A glimpse of this glory will soon be available to you.

Sitting at the sidebar

One of Annie's favorites--listen all the way through, it's a fun ride.

Rental review

I don't think it was as good as it could have been, and it was cuter than it should have been, but at 79, Clint Eastwood is still a super badass and the sexiest old man I've ever seen. Also, the movie left me cryin' so The Half Note gives Gran Torino two thumbs up.

Sitting at the sidebar

It's what's playin' in real time.

Familiar direction

Annie and I were in the car heading South on West End Avenue when we came across this traffic signal.

"What are you gonna do, Mom?" Annie asked.

"I'm gonna do what I always do," I replied. "I'm gonna stop, go, and wait, all at the same time."

A matter of taste

Cristian wasn't impressed with Chinese dumplings, but he loved peanut butter and jelly. He really liked the iced chai, but he rejected the granola. He didn't care much for bowling, but he went wild for the Yankees. He liked my neighbors, but he adored my mother.

Cristian was helpful to me, but he would have given the world to Annie.

We miss you, Runnerfrog!~Katie, Annie, David, Lulu, Ann & Honey.

Look here

Annie laughed when she spotted me wearing reading glasses while squinting at the computer screen.

"You'd better get used to it!" I say. "I can't see anything anymore!"

"They don't look awful," she replied.

Pause.

"They don't even look bad."

Pause.

"They look nice!"

Thought in real time

The piece at the sidebar reflects my mood--it's simple, and there are a million things going on at once.

Sitting at the sidebar

Sometimes I don't know what I'm feeling, until by chance I play something that tells me.

The Sun will Set by Zoë Keating, and I will always need music to lead the way.

What I want

I want to be less tired and more sleepy, I want my dog to be mentally stable, I want Annie to wake refreshed, I want my younger brother to have success, I want my older brother to find balance, I want my mother to be fulfilled, I want a friend to be loved, I want another friend to recover, I want a father to rest in peace, I want health and happiness for everyone who is reading this, and for everyone who isn't, and I want to post this picture of a kitty with a balloon, just because I like it.

What I want

I want to write a novel and have it published, I want to move to the West Village, I want world peace, and I want the baby next door to stop crying.

The way things aren't

I thought I saw a sign that said, "Chelsea Denial Center," but it actually said "Chelsea Dental Center."

Birds and bees

Annie: "At what age do people usually have their first serious relationship? I mean, what's the average age?"

Me: "I don't know, maybe seventeen?"

Annie: "Seventeen? Maybe back in your day, but things are a lot different now!"

Me: "Okay, then, sixteen?"

Annie: "Try fourteen!"

Me: "You're still a child at fourteen, I don't think you can have a serious relationship at that age."

Annie: "How old were you when you had your first serious boyfriend?"

Me: "Seventeen."

Annie: "And how old were you when you first kissed a boy?"

Me: "Fourteen."

Annie: "Was it a real kiss?"

Me: "Yes."

Annie: "Did he touch you?"

Me: "He felt me up, if that's what you mean."

Annie: "Ewwww! He felt your boobs?!"

Katie: "He did."

Annie: "That's so gross!"

Long pause.

Annie: "Did you feel violated, or were you happy?"

In real time

Missing Spain, and this room where I slept at the home of my friends.

In real time

Outside sticky hot, the air inside is cool--at peace, feels like I could sleep ten thousand nights.

Thoughts in real time

When you're learning about someone else, notice how much you're learning about yourself.