small side of ketchup

I promised I wouldn't stop blogging, and I won't, but it's true there's been a bit of a lull in words herein. I've experienced this phenomenon historically with regard to the words on the page during periods of bliss– happiness, typically, hath no momentum in terms of reflective art or what-have-you. on the other hand, I'm feeling more inspired than I have in ages– in truth, I was caught up on a bit of a psychic treadmill for awhile there, so this shift, though rather quiet in voxland, is utterly and hugely welcome in satheadland.

yesterday it was 71 degrees and breezy in chicago. after work I zipped home (or, well, as much as clogged traffic would allow– more and more I'm seeing the many benefits of having a functional bicycle…), picked up mister george, and zoomed over to the nearby park to meet my lovely friend erica for a walk in the sunshine– out among all the happy, springy people– the families, the single people and couples walking dogs, the little boy who fearlessly gave george a big ole bearhug just like I do (george was very disappointed when boy and his hugs wandered off again)– playing conversational catch-up with a delightful friend who, bravo for her, has landed a professor gig in florida right out of the gate and exits chicago mid-summer, so I'm getting my friend time in good now, doncha know. then back to her place for chinese food and fantastic dumb teevee and coming up with tattoo ideas and fending off the george's repeated requests to climb up on the couch with the rest of the potatoes.

(tattoo ideas from last night include: the design/shape my hairclips made when I clumped them all together, I know it sounds dumb, but it's a cool shape, honest; a fortune cookie with just a glimpse of the language on the fortune showing, but which words, hmm?…; and a cowbell on my calf, harhar– I'll have to post more at some point about the Great Tattoo Dilemma I wrestle with– I've wanted one for several years but have difficulty settling on a sufficiently resonant or emblematic image– is it any wonder, really, that I have a hard time, being me, committing to one thing or another? ha, and no. but maybe with this new Conceptual Tattoo Image approach, perhaps I've found something I could live with because it wouldn't claim to be super-significant or anything, just kind of diverting and fun. okay, maybe I'm done writing about tattoos now and don't actually need an entire post on the topic. but we'll see. this one comes and goes.)

so today is apparently a day for extended parenthetical remarks. some days it's just like that.

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love

it is sometimes difficult for me to gauge just how explicit I care to be about life facts in this place, particularly where new relationships are concerned– and also the question arises: to what end? this morning I have decided to share a little window into my heart– in part because this heart is so full and calm and happy– and in part also to say believe. do not ever stop believing, whatever happens. this world has such treasures in store. sometimes it takes a long time. sometimes it takes until you are 41 years old and hope trickling away in ill matches and near misses and out-and-out ridiculousness and foolishness to arrive suddenly at the place you've been heading toward forever, your entire life so far, to begin again, to be knocked flat on your happy ass by a gorgeously perfect partner– one who sees you, truly, one who treasures you and enjoys your company, who thrills your eyes and heart, who makes you laugh until you can hardly breathe, who refuses to take the easy way around difficulties but rather says, look, let's face it all, together. life, by god, has such gifts. please, my friends, do not ever, ever doubt it.

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