Tuesday, June 26, 2007

i'm gonna sit right down and write myself a letter...

After a day of slow and steady work yesterday, Rachael dropped by our beloved apartment four and whipped up some cheesey hamburger helper, which Buck and I devoured while viewing two episodes of Malcom in the Middle. Afterward we partook of a typically wacky discussion touching on all major topics (life, love, coworkers, and movies). When they left, I felt a sudden need to call Hannah. It had been over two weeks since our last talk, and all week I'd been battling an increasingly powerful missing feeling that I couldn't shake. S0...I borrowed Buck's phone and meandered off to Shadowlands field. Hannah answered on the first ring, and after our usual opening awkwardness--false starts and dead ends--got a good conversation up and running. It's tough for me to generate a dialogue out of two weeks' absence, to muster the conversational momentum that comes so easily to some people. I used to be rather ashamed of this, but ever since high school physics, I've realized that universal laws are on my side, which rather takes the bite out of my deficiencies.

Our talks always end in family. Hannah lives at home, in the thick of the clamor and confusion, the caring so powerful that it sometimes ends up causing more damage than good. And I, listening to her, love them all so much!

During our conversation, the sky behind the treeline that borders the soccer field keeps flashing with sheet lightning, outlining the deep boiling clouds, while the thunder grumbles. Just as I return from the field, a crack of thunder precedes the sudden rush of rainfall that chases me the last few feet to my front porch. The rest of the night, it poured and poured...and this morning dawned overcast and puddlewonderful and mudluscious.

I've had my coffee fix, and my Hannah fix, and a pancake with bananas too! Listening to the "You've Got Mail" soundtrack as I type this and pack my Annie Dillard read into my lunchbreak bag, I am confident that it will be a good day.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

big comfy couch

I like the couch that has taken up residence in my apartment. I like it mainly because its ample armrests can easily cushion my cup of coffee, while I perch crosslegged adjacent, my rear perfectly situated in the gap between the seat and back cushions. I like the calm blues--navy and sky--that pinstripe across its curvacious form; the glimpses of exposed stuffing and padding in the corners and crevices. I love that, when I seat myself thus, I command a view of the entire front half of the apartment: the kitchen, dishes littering the sink and green handtowel stuffed in to the refrigerator door; the bookshelf (or should I say movieshelf?) displaying its eclectic wares; the ever-watchful television set, offset by the coca-cola glass of graceful orange flowers; and the windows, offering a splintered vision of the nieghboring vehicles and a fringe of tulip tree greenery.

From this very post, I have visited and revisited the spheres of Facebook and Hotmail, of Banner and People.com--humming along to Michael Buble or Rosie Thomas; chatting on occasion with my roommates as they pass in and out. I have reveled in the melodrama and tedium of reality tv shows. I have shared pot after pot of gurgling Maxwell House to visitors.

From this vantage point, I can say with a sigh of satisfaction, that it has been a good summer.

Cheers.

To Mom

Who would have thought, when years had passed,  and you had left this world for good, I'd find such comfort remembering the way it felt ...