Wednesday, February 28, 2007

Dear everyone,

February really broke my momentum. January was all Snow! Smooching! New friends! Couch! and I was thinking, "Rock on, 2007 is going to be the year of samantha." I even did a little Godzilla stomping on Tokyo endzone dance. But then February came along, all No Reason Sads! Dead childhood friends! Confusion and self doubt! Stubborn cough! I think February would have killed my dog, too, if October hadn't gotten there first, and it's angry that it missed the chance.

February was like expecting a rain of water droplets and getting a rain of scorpions, is how unexpectedly unfortunate most of the month was. I just can't seem to catch a break. I'd like to be all Plutarchian about the rest of the year, all "with my shield or on it," but shit, y'all, I'm tired.

Years ago, when I was shacking up with the filmmaker, we went on a vacation to Chicago. Flying into the city--my first time on an airplane--the wing dipped and I was confronted with an unbroken view in all directions of a soft, uniform blue. Lake Michigan and the sky were, for the moment, the exact same shade. I twinked for a minute, disoriented by a complete lack of gravity cues, sure of which way was down only because I was still strapped to my seat. But floating, for all intents and purposes, someplace in between.
I thought of this again the other night as I clomped home in the dark, magical red shoes softly rubbing a blister onto my left little toe. I was stepping carefully down the stairs that go from Capitol Hill to my neighborhood and, startled, I looked back. Nothing was there, just my imagination creating axe murderers from shadows, but in the turning something tore and for a moment I felt in between again, insubstantial and fetal.

Things are happening, perhaps, and there is still plenty of time to make this one the year of samantha. Plenty of time to perfect my Godzilla stomping on Tokyo endzone dance.


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