I am probably ready to write again.
It was is if there was cheesecloth surrounding my brain, only letting a few words seep out.
I actually didn't have the impulse to blog at all.
It was very strange.
I can't tell if it has passed completely, but I did discover some things while watching the Grammy's lat night...
1. Keith Urban is my favorite country singer in the history of this planet (or genre of music, at least)
a. No, I do not know one single song by him.
b. Don't care.
c. Will make babies with him.
2. Whoever faild to tell me how incredibly hot The Edge is, is fired.
3. When it's legal, I'm marrying Joss Stone, too.
(Ok, that one's cheating: I already knew that.)
Anywho, apparently my sex drive is in full, functioning order.
Here's a story I wrote once when I had nothing to say:
august 25, 2004
I should have something wild and wonderful to say today.
I should tell you about the time I stood on the hot tar of a rooftop...
and willed my body to leap to the next house...
how the tar burned and scraped my feet when I landed, breathless.
I could tell you how the air felt different up there...
and the city looked smaller.
I could tell you that with each building, my feet grew tougher--my legs grew stronger.
it felt like flying...
but my arms were not out, like superman, they flew around at my sides, not quite within my control.
it was an exhilaration to match nothing I’ve ever known.
I could tell you that on one of those rooftops there stood a man...
about to jump.
but not out and across, like me...
there was a sadness hanging around him...
he had lost hope.
but his eyes were so beautiful, and his lips.
I spoke softly, so I wouldn't startle him.
he turned, angry at first, then confused.
this was his most private, anguished moment...
and I had barged into it.
I reached out my hand--
not daring to breathe.
he let out the longest sigh I’ve ever seen,
two small tears glistening on his cheek,
and put his hand in mine.
he stepped away from the edge.
without a word, I took him in my arms and we sat together in a heap.
he held on so tightly it was as if he had already slipped over the edge and I was his only handhold.
...so did I.
and as the sun began to set...
Hope you're each having a, respectively, fabulous day.