When I leave here later I will be catching the midnight bus to Philly. My aunt’s 70th birthday party is tomorrow. My father is flying up from Georgia to surprise her and I am very happy to see him.
The springtime is good. Lots of movement. Lilacs & hydrangea.
(Speaking of Lilacs, I finally finished memorizing “Crossing Brooklyn Ferry,” which I have been learning by heart, slowly and piecemeal, for the last 7 years or so. This is quite an achievement… the poem has seeped deep into my consciousness. I understand it very differently now. I feel that it lives inside me.)
Today I dropped my phone in the gutter on 76th street and was able to find it a half-hour later by retracing my steps. Two construction workers witnessed me finding it, breathless and thrilled, and told me I should play the lottery. Though I never had before, I did take their advice.
Other excitements: my closest childhood friend is officially engaged. I’m to be the maid-of-honor. Another friend is practicing seeing people through the cross-hairs at OCS. Trigger the quarter-life crisis!
I recently returned from a babysitting trip to South Africa. It was an eye-opening and beautiful voyage.
If a picture is worth a thousand words, here are 720,000 words! http://picasaweb.google.com/Quammen/20100404SouthAfrica#
And please read Long Walk to Freedom by Nelson Mandela.
There is nothing like leaving for a while to make you appreciate your life. I am glad to be in Brooklyn in the Springtime.
I feel strange tonight. Feel like I’m struggling with a barrier that I can’t see. The answer is not in having something to do on Saturday night or keeping a close watch on the international news. The answer is not in working, though money helps. The answer is not in having a companion, though company helps. Something to dedicate myself to. Literature? Art? Hard to say, because I don’t have the time to invest, to find out. I am angry that this is the way life is.
I want more slow days, more friends available for a last-minute dinner party. I want the riveting conversations that last until dawn without even noticing the time once.
I want to sleep on the couches out on the porches in the summer, and read stories aloud to people who care to listen, who aren’t preoccupied, and when I’m not riddled with anxiety myself.
Let me complain in the public space! Just see if I look ashamed to put it in words– I’m not.
But today I built a fabulous snow fort with two sharp girls,sharper than me, except for my 15 years more of world experience and my willingness to work hard. They’ll probably be international businesswomen by the time they’re my age, with their top-tier elementary education and all, and here I am, getting home at 11 PM and promised to be back at the labors of domestic service as soon as I can drag myself out of bed. What am I supposed to do with this?
The cycle will be broken by subtle shifts, and in its own sweet time, but when it is I know I’ll miss my little sisters and brothers like hell.
Old Caulfield (whose creator is dead, by the way) has his claws in me tonight for sure. But it’s nowhere I haven’t been before, buddy. Just thought I’d tell you about it, in case you’re interested, in case you want to know.
Let me just say something now, buddy. I mean, let me just say something.
I.
The air is heavy with unfallen snow.
II.
The Late Great J.D. Salinger has kept me up till five to bring all my stars out, and for no other reason!
Keep me up till five because all your stars are out, and for no other reason!
III.
http://www.vogue.com/feature/2010_Jan_Charles_Olya_Thompson/
IV.
I love the month of February indeed. All the cold sunshine and flowerstalls and barebranched trees dressed in white lights and streetlamps and bits of last weekend’s unmelted snow.
V.
I made this as part of a Christmas present for my friend. I’m sure you can tell what he’s supposed to spend it on!
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