I hope at least SOME of my (2? 3?) readers pick up on the quote below. That was the point of the post. Drunken man crossing an icy street. Midnight in early January, 1994, Princeton, New Jersey, anyone?
One funny detail is that I had to tell my grandparents the real story before our wedding because we knew it would come up at the rehearsal dinner. I fear I squandered my 15 minutes of fame awfully pathetically.
“It’s like watching a drunken man cross an icy street”
Pretty much how I feel like I go through life. Aaron Sorkin speaks the truth.
If I take this Providence job I’ll have a lot of time in the car to have reactions to music. Tonight could not stop thinking about Kennedy after hearing “Leather and Lace” – wow, was he a wonderful part of my life. One of this world’s great people, one of the first to really believe in me. That song, every single time, brings me back to summer of 1993!
Have I mentioned how much I love Amanda Peet? Matt and I are having dinner with her cousin, our dear friend Tucker, on Saturday night. Unfortunately he didn’t acquiesce to my request that he bring her to our wedding (where he was a groomsman), but I am looking forward to getting the Studio 60 inside scoop this weekend.
providence
3. a manifestation of divine care or direction
…. it’s looking good. Major life changes ahead. Stay tuned. No letter in hand yet. Am trying to listen to the universe and let providence take over. Hard for me, who prefers to manhandle the universe. As per Tom Robbins: “You’re better equipped for this world than I am,” she said. “I’m always trying to change the world. You know how to live in it.” I’m working on it…
And, here comes my favorite season (well, except for summer) – Christmas carols, paperwhite bulbs, and Christmas cards flooding in the door (record last year was 19 in one day). Hooray!
Grace’s BB&N interview tomorrow, wish us luck.
Am certainly making up for my week of silence today.
This evening’s sunset was just plain glorious. I tried to take a picture but it didn’t come out well. Words will have to do. This is the time of year when the sunsets are particularly stunning, I think, and also painfully bittersweet. The days are short, the air is cold, and the long winter looms. And somehow the crispness of the sky makes for these outrageous, short-lived sunsets. Watching, breathless, I find myself fighting back tears at the way nature animates life’s brevity, endless farewells, and profound impermanence. Frost said it best:
So dawn goes down to day/nothing gold can stay.
Finished Truth and Beauty by Ann Patchett last week. What a breathtaking, elegiac testament to a once-in-a-lifetime friendship. I was deeply moved. A few passages really struck me:
“It’s true,” she said, leaning her head on my shoulder. “It’s your blessing and your curse. You’re always going to be fine.”
“We were all better off living in the worlds inside our heads.”
“Lucy and I were one another’s history.”
“Whenever I saw her, I felt like I had been living in another country, doing moderately well in another language, and then she showed up speaking English and suddenly I could speak with all the complexity and nuance that I hadn’t even realized was gone. With Lucy, I was a native speaker.”
“History is strangely incomprehensible when you’re standing in the middle of it.”
“Now I know I was simply not cut out for life without her. I am living that life now, and I would not choose it.”