Of course I believe in happy endings, I've had about a hundred of them!
Summer's here, so I've been spending my time not going to work and doing the recuperative activities I missed so dearly during the cold season. I just finished reading The Jane Austen Book Club, a book I'd pined after at Borders and took out of the library yesterday. I get my one-sitting book habit from my mother, and days intended to be productive but mostly spent scattered around the house, reading. The book was as heartwarming as I'd expected, especially because of the women who, like me, suspect after reading Austen that it has in some way impacted the outcome of life events.
I sat on the porch while I read, sticking my feet into the strip of sunlight that touched the railing. In addition to reading and not working, I've been doing pilates (consistently! Gotta look good in the swimsuit I haven't bought yet) and...well...doing nothing else. Watching movies. Watching Dr. Phil, whom I used to hate but developed an affection for. Taking the dog to Tony Russo Park across the street, laying down in the outfield and reading The Economist. It doesn't get much better than this.
Things change with summer, however. In many ways, a long and dramatic chapter in the book of my life is coming to an end, or at least a well-placed white space. I'm moving to the other side of town to begin a joint life with my boyfriend and test out the expected long-term waters. We've both signed the lease so the possibility of disaster is present, although unlikely.
So I'm leaving Little Italy and the small caravan of artists and poets that I've surrounded myself with for the past...year? Longer, I think. Striking out onto unknown but long anticipated Lake Erie shores. I expect equal blog-fodder to be presented by the mean streets of Clifton Boulevard, so no worries there. Even more if I start writing for the CWRU English Department blog, a tantalizing offer that's been put out on the table if not yet finalized.
I'm also beginning to have visions of my future. Graduating next year. Then, possibly law school, if nothing but a way to teach my mind to "stroll about hungry and fearless and thirsty and supple" (thanks e.e. cummings). I've been writing more, blogging more (a bit), and generally moving myself into a very good mental, emotional, physical place. God, I sound like my sister when she blogged during her trip to India. That's me, good ol' Deborah 2.0
Well, the whisper of the turning page is calling. And by that, I mean I have to run off to work soon and would like to accomplish something around the house before then. It's beautiful today. You should go outside if you can.
I sat on the porch while I read, sticking my feet into the strip of sunlight that touched the railing. In addition to reading and not working, I've been doing pilates (consistently! Gotta look good in the swimsuit I haven't bought yet) and...well...doing nothing else. Watching movies. Watching Dr. Phil, whom I used to hate but developed an affection for. Taking the dog to Tony Russo Park across the street, laying down in the outfield and reading The Economist. It doesn't get much better than this.
Things change with summer, however. In many ways, a long and dramatic chapter in the book of my life is coming to an end, or at least a well-placed white space. I'm moving to the other side of town to begin a joint life with my boyfriend and test out the expected long-term waters. We've both signed the lease so the possibility of disaster is present, although unlikely.
So I'm leaving Little Italy and the small caravan of artists and poets that I've surrounded myself with for the past...year? Longer, I think. Striking out onto unknown but long anticipated Lake Erie shores. I expect equal blog-fodder to be presented by the mean streets of Clifton Boulevard, so no worries there. Even more if I start writing for the CWRU English Department blog, a tantalizing offer that's been put out on the table if not yet finalized.
I'm also beginning to have visions of my future. Graduating next year. Then, possibly law school, if nothing but a way to teach my mind to "stroll about hungry and fearless and thirsty and supple" (thanks e.e. cummings). I've been writing more, blogging more (a bit), and generally moving myself into a very good mental, emotional, physical place. God, I sound like my sister when she blogged during her trip to India. That's me, good ol' Deborah 2.0
Well, the whisper of the turning page is calling. And by that, I mean I have to run off to work soon and would like to accomplish something around the house before then. It's beautiful today. You should go outside if you can.
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Next on my reading list: No One Belongs Here More Than You by Miranda July. You might like this collection of short stories. She also made the movie, Me and You and Everyone We Know.
A move to the west side! And I'm moving east.