|Current mood:|| hot|
|Current music:||The Sopranos in the background|
It's almost the end of May. This past month of 2012, I've turned 36, rented a house to live in, adopted a cat whom I've renamed 'Beansie', and remembered the sticky humid nights of a London summer.
Still, breath moves in and out of my lungs. I open my eyes in the morning, choose an outfit, slick on some sunscreen so I can pretend to stop the freckles that have appeared on my nose. I like how things are going. Work is hard, but it feels somewhat gratifying when I climb into my parent's van at the end of the day and drive back towards London and where I lay my head at night. Like a crown on my pillow.
It's the regular ins and outs of daily living that I'm trying to enjoy. That's what the life is all about. None of those 'ideas' I had years ago, thinking what my life would look like. Instead, I'm just trying to get on with it. I slick dark blue nail polish on my nails, admire the shine. Pretty blue. freak flag fly, indeed. It's all just a bunch of words, right sailor?
I took some photos of the youth today, learning how to set up the lodge for the sweat tonight. they ask me if I'll go in. I say no, wrong time of the month but also because it's so roasting out there, it would be no relief to come out of the sweat lodge into this heat.
Sweet scented cedar, you add the layers to the floor of the lodge with every sweat (each week) until there is a comfy bed which you sit on, in the dark and try to dream. For the first time in my entire life, I can use my 'real' name at work, not the english one. It feels good to hear someone say it.
Thanks for the birthday messages, they were much appreciated and they were very sweet.
I move in sometime this week, probably the weekend. I don't own a television, just some funky vintage furniture and a lot of books. Buckley will join me in a couple of weeks, to lounge in my back yard with some iced tea. He'll meet his new companion, Beansie the cat and maybe he'll become a bit happy again as he's been lackluster since Marble and Beebs died. I'm thinking he's just lonely.
As sad as this sounds, although I'm making arrangements to settle in, I can't help thinking of the weather in Europe, the breeze on the side of the ocean. Italy in June with the thing crust radicchio pizza and 5 euro bottles of beer. Looking back now, I can hardly believe I've done those things.
It's been quite a year.