there is so much that is happening, yet i dont know what to say. new job that i actually like. new home that i am nuts about. new roommates, 2/3 of them gone for the summer, who i'm quite pleased with. and sunshine which i love. if i didn't sunburn so easily (or use flammable hair products), i'd make love to that ball of fire in the sky.
i've been feeling like i should go out and cause some trouble; i haven't been being naughty enough. to illustrate this, let me just say that if the family i'm working for had hidden cameras, i'd still have my job. it's an unfamiliar feeling and i'm not sure how well i like being so good. where's my partner in crime to save me from all this sickening good-doing?
i've been thinking that there might be answers to all the questions in the world. someone once described knowledge as a tall narrow tower, with a spiral staircase leading all the way up. as it winds around, the staircase passes by winows looking out on the world on different sides and different heights. some people become enamored with the view from one window or another, and stay there, looking out. others keep climbing and keep trying different windows, unsatisfied. each window offers it's own way of looking out at the world and each is useful, but none of them can see all there is in the world.
i want to see the whole world, even if i can't see it all at once. i want to keep climbing and not allow myself to stop until i've seen everything that's out there. i've sat and looked out the fashion and design window a bit, and looked out the nanny window, and quickly looked away, and then looked back out again when i saw the dollar signs. i've looked out the west coast and the east coast window, and i like some of what i saw. but what about all the windows i haven't looked out of? i dont want to miss something. i dont want to commit myself to looking out one window for forever when there might be other windows i can look out of. they might not be better, but they'd be different for sure. and i want to look out all of them. maybe then i'd have answers to all my questions.
i got a kurt vonnegut book at the library today and my girls and i sat at the edge of the mary's river with our feet in the water, reading and throwing rocks when we got to the boring parts. (the older girl threw a rock that missed the water and got me right in the chest and i felt bad for her for feeling bad for hitting me... what's happening to me) and this line from the book jumped out at me and it keeps popping into my head and when i think about it too deeply, everything gets sort of dizzy and i can't focus and i keep going further and further into my head and nothing is clear and so i try to think about other things, like the pink curtains i got today and the places i'm going to go tomorrow and wondering when i'll be around the boys who make me feel content again. but the top of that page keeps bothering me like a mosquito on the face of my life:
who really knows? i could have dreamed all this.
and on that note, i think i'm going to go to bed and think about sex in hopes that i'll have a really wild and satisfying sex dream.