Oh, Beautiful Blog, how I’ve neglected thee! I traded you in for empty days and nights of Facebook. I whored myself out to fine printed texts, and I left you lonely, abandoned so I could experience companionship with real, tangible people. Now I am filling you with my thoughts while watching Maury Povich tell women which man of many is their baby daddy. I am still slumming, pouring my affections elsewhere and hoping you’ll turn your head.
And, I am drinking a Monty Python’s Holy Grail Ale and thinking of a peanut butter and jelly kind of life.
Enough soft-core internet porn.
I am in the middle of baking cookies for our CElla’s Round Trip Bake Sale tomorrow. I just made some really tasty oatmeal, raisin, white chocolate chip cookies. I packed them in little bags of three. Would you buy three little cookies for a dollar? I would if they tasted wicked-delicious like these do. I would spend a dollar for my cookies, but maybe not yours.
We (the Fat Cats and two correctly spelled Rachels) are raising money to go to Chicago. I didn’t realize until yesterday that we leave next week. On Wednesday. We leave in less than a week and we still don’t have our chapbook finished, which does make me a little nervous. Now, I need to learn how to use a bookmaking program in the next two days, so I can produce our book over the weekend. This may be a complete disaster.
I think God is teaching me patience. If not, it’s a cruel trick.
I haven’t been writing or reading like I should be. I have been in somewhat of a funk for a variety of reasons and I am finding it difficult to make myself do the things I need to do. Sometimes I feel like a rapid cycling bi-polar because I can be elated one day and in the gutter depressed the next. I should harness that for my writing.
Good writers have Crazy Brain. I haven’t met one who doesn’t. Next weekend, I will be around a whole bunch of Crazy Brain.
And then, I get to have lunch or something with my friend Corey. I hope I get to have lunch with him ’cause it would be really sweet.
I will just be happy to be in Chicago: I will touch the buildings and run my fingers lovingly along their skin as I walk past them. I will breathe the thick, close air of too many people. I will kiss the lake, love each street my feet touch, relish the stink of the city bus, and retain the press of the bag lady’s hand as she takes the coins from my palm. I will let my mind be transported to a different life, one I could have had but let go of in order to have the life I have.
We can’t go back in time. There is no rewind. We can only go forward. Fast forward.
I need to enjoy things as they come and present themselves to me. I need to work on loving the moment, not thinking about the future or the past. Why can’t I do this anymore? I used to be so good about living in every moment, but they just keep comng faster and faster. Time is relative.