the last embassy
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19 April 2002 (Friday): blur

There are empty bottles on my desk. A canvas bag. A small stack of photocopied receipts. A yawn just tingled down my body, starting at the jaw and shimmering through my thighs. I am wondering whether it's egotistical to have a recording of oneself singing stuck in one's head.

No way in hell I am getting up in time for the 9 o'clock meeting tomorrow. Free bagels, bah.

Gaudior and Drew and I helped Lynn move to her new apartment this evening, a three-hour affair that turned into six hours and a celebratory dinner at an Italian restaurant afterwards. The apartment is much nicer than mine, with rent to match, somewhat. I can't seem to bring myself to pay much for living space, even if that means dormitory carpets and shabby kitchens. When it's time for me to own a house it will be super-insulated (so's to eliminate the need for air conditioning) and made from interesting recycled materials and have bamboo for its hardwood floors (thank you Moonpuddle), with organic cotton and Energy Star everything. I am a granola type that way. In the meantime, parsimony is the guiding principle. Makes it difficult to feel comfortable entertaining, perhaps, but I'm antisocial to begin with.

I wonder how one goes about installing solar panels on the roof of one's hybrid-electric car and hooking it up to the engine.

Coming back to work at midnight is an odd sensation.

It's good to have romantic clarity, as I've had for some time now. To have found the space where true love and personal freedom coexist. To see the one I love for who he is; for who we are, together. To see the one I once loved for who he is, too, and know that I still do love him, only in a much different way, at a much greater distance. To realize just how much strength it's taken him to forgive me for leaving -- how much grace that demands. I know all this; I remember it, and live by it, if imperfectly. It's all I could ask for, and I'm grateful.

posted by enjelani @ 01:29 AM PST