i know it's august, and i know temps registered in the triple digits last week, but this morning it was 71 degrees when i left at 530 in order to be at met on time. i wore my favourite pair of diesels and hugged myself into my madras j. crew blazer over an old express tank top. beach hair curled even more than usual because i actually had to turn the temperature knob in the camry from blue to red.
i drove to work in the misty, puttering rain. the windshield wipers screeched from side to side on the slowest speed possible, the window not quite damp enough for them to sway smoothly.
i had had a wonderful sunday night speaking to an unheard-from friend and later retreating into the waves for a rather spontaneous midnight swim under the stars with an unexpected visitor. i was determined not to let the monday morning blues get to me.
one as-is unsliced honey whole wheat bagel and seattle's best iced raspberry latte later, my mood increased significantly. i tried not to think about the very difficult time one of my life's loves is going through right now, what with the literal and figurative losses of several family members on top of all the usual chaos. i want to reach out to her and steady everything for her, put it all in its place, straighten out the little knickknacks on the shelf of life that have tipped over or are tilted on their sides. mop up the spilled milk and wipe away any tears. pour drinks down the drain and ooze happiness out of a morphine drip. recite appropriate song lyrics whose words aren't so overused and entirely trite that they have lost their meanings.
i want to drive in a car on the road all by myself with the windows down and music up. i want togather shells and hear the waves echo in my ear. i want to run in the rain til i'm breathless.
i want to reread favourite children's books whose meanings take on new levels when you enter college, like the little prince or maybe the lorax. i want to paint pretty watercolours and hang them on the clothesline in my backyard so that the colours blend as they drip off the page when the wind blows, creating whole new images of nothing but everything. i want to sip lemonade from a frosted glass and hear the glass cubes clink delicately against themselves.
i want to wear big floppy faded yellow beach hats and smile with blindingly white straight teeth. i want to catch butterflies and then let them go. i want to play my acoustic guitar and not be embarassed.
i want to light taper candles in expensive empty wine bottles during thunderstorms and read by the dim glow. i want to tell you that i love you. i want to cut up fresh picked tomatoes and sprinkle them with salt and take a big bite and spray a few seeds and laugh and wipe my mouth not-so-daintily with the back of my left hand and pretend no one saw that.
i want to surprise. i want to be surprised.