soapboxdiner

Small

I've spent my evening with The Bridges of Madison County and the writings of Anais Nin. If ever I appreciated the magnitude of beauty in the small and internal, that appreciation has become even more poignant tonight.

I may not be a great lady. I may not be a heroine. But somewhere inside all of us, in that ephemeral place where we are most honest, we are all beautiful. It is a shame that for so many of us, that place is so proportionately small.

And now, if you will excuse me, my son just woke from his sleep to a squishy sounding heave and several projectile vomits.

That sounds very bad, but I swear, it has nothing to do with me waxing tender and touched.

11:10 pm - 02.15.03
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