soapboxdiner

And the World May Never Know . . .

Ah, Diaryland. You and I have to stop meeting this way; it's positively improper how you abandon me in your jolly, happy times only to make flaccid attempts at reconciliation at the slightest showing of portended misfortune. I'm appalled, really, at the profundity of gall you show me. But you know I can't refuse you lilting there before me, batting your oh-so-innocent eyes at me like a mischievous schoolgirl. It's you, you know, and it always has been.

But it has been both the best and worst of times for me, or nearly so. But let's don't make this all about me. How have you been? Has the world shown you beauty this past year? Have you flourished in life's sweet abundance? I hope you have, my darling. I know you have.

I, on the other hand, have been out in the world as well, gaining and losing jobs and homes of my very own. Yea, Lost: One horrible, ruinous job making lots of money and lots of perks. Stress and physical distress. Gained: Twenty pounds. A fabulous new job making slightly more than a professional windshield washer during rush hour. A lovely home for me to own and take care of, nestled quite cozily in a lively community much like the last, if you recall the past. There is also Nine Toes now, my new octogenarian neighbor. He has an endearing, fully haired, yappy little chuhuahua. They get about the town together in their Invacare Lynx L-3 Red 3-Wheel Microportable Wheelchair. Dashing couple, really. And there are others one could mention, of course. But really, none come near to my heart quite the same way as Nine Toes with his yappy Feona.

Ah, Diaryland, there is so much more for us to share; the comings and near (aka quite soon to be) goings of men to name but one tidy exhibit. Am I sad at this last tidbit? Do I look remorsefully or passively to the past two years and sigh with woe or fulfillment? Do I gaze to the future in trepidation? Do I raise myself powerfully to embrace my present? One shall have to see, no?

6:55 pm - 11.28.06
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