Hi everyone,
I just flew in from New York, and boy are my arms tired. (Of course, I sat on an airplane that didn't move for four hours before I did any flying, about which I have to admit to being pretty irritated.)
Ok, I apologize; I accidentally saw some bad comedians in the Village Thursday night, and I still haven't completely recovered. New York and I actually get along really well, which is something I forgot. On whichever other hand, though, it would probably be a bad idea for me to move there, both because it would be too easy to retreat completely into my head and because my urge to kick people in the backs of the knees when they're walking too slowly would get the best of me.
I think I'm going to speak only in haiku from now on--I'll get in a lot less trouble if I have to count my syllables before I open my big mouth. Same goes for email; it might get a little annoying, but consider the alternative. Better for us all, i feel.
I slipped a little on that whole "well behaved" thing this month, largely because a girl can only pine for so long before the rest of her body is like, "Ok, heart? You've been driving for much too long, and it has gotten us nowhere. It is our turn to make bad decisions." (Says Toby, "There's only a certain number of people in the world who like to get drunk, make out, and talk about books, so as long as you're otherwise unoccupied you might as well do that with as many of them as you can. One might stick eventually, and if not, at least you spent the time doing what you love." Which is very, very funny, but also mostly true.) What I've done is the emotional equivalent of stubbing my toe to distract myself from the fact that I just crushed my thumb with a hammer. I've created quite a situation, and I've decided that I'm only going to settle for some sort of spectacular solution to the whole thing. Since I'm going to come out of it all smashed on the rocks anyway.
Because I'm starting to realize more and more that this is the only life I've got--that in the end I'll lose everything anyway, so I might as well try to ditch all of my unwanted momentums and just go for the whole living thing. Which is hard, because I am naturally timid and very afraid, but worthwhile, I think. I've been thinking a lot about Rilke lately, because it is spring and I am sentimental; about his whole idea that we should live all of our questions in the hope of someday living the way to an answer. It's the only way I can think to go about it.
New York and I were in love, but in a dangerous, Bonnie and Clyde sort of way. Its constant action and my habit of sacrificing my health for anything interesting wouldn't be good for either of us. But you and me, Seattle, we're in love in ways that might just fail to kill us both. I'm sort of a mess, but I'm your mess. I missed you.
love,
me
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