enfinblue's Bluey (credit to Fifi for the nickname!) Diaryland Diary

"I am seeking, I am striving, I am in it with all my heart." -Vinc3nt V@n Gogh

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Writing furniture lists in my Florentine-paper-covered book with lovely, creamy paper.

It was a terribly lovely day. This, in spite of rain driving down in absolutely HUMUNGOUS drops and soaking and chilling me from home to yoga, yoga to brunch spot, brunch cafe to tree hugger health food store, food store back to home.

In the afternoon I curled up in my chair, mostly, and drank really, really, really good fair trade coffee. I listened to the rain come down. The afternoon passed so quickly, I hardly noticed. At some point a little bit later on in the day I got up and made bread, which is now awaiting its baking...unfortunately. C. called at about six and we made a plan for dinner and late movie, and so I ended up punching down the dough and leaving it again for an inordinately long second-rising. Not too good. It'll probably taste a bit too yeasty, as a result. Oh well! Tomorrow is another day. Another loaf can be made.

C. and I went to see Juli3 and Julia. I know I saw it last weekend. :) Of course it wasn't as enjoyable the second time around. Still, lighthearted fare and a laugh or two and the shared pleasure of aesthetes is always OK by me.

Earlier this afternoon, I did do something, I remember: I made a list of things I want to look at at IK3A tomorrow. C. rented a car to take him to his Ultimat3 tournament today, and so we have it for tomorrow. This has motivated the rare trip to IK3A. Of course we realized that we're complete idiots, as we've decided that our one weekend trip to the heg3monic Sw3dish chipboard furniture people will coincide with the weekend on which not one, not two but THREE universities welcome their students back to the big zero for a new school year.

Maybe it's biorhythms. Perhaps my body will always be in tune with the student's life. I read once that high school students actually need to sleep later in the day as a result of biology - it's not just that they are lazy or annoying and therefore stay up late and rise late - and I wonder if I'm still on that clock. I do remember my mother having to drag me out of bed. I hated mornings. I still do. Well, at least when I have to go to work.

So...a good day. A good plan. I'm thinking a lot about this trip to England. I will definitely go, but if I buy furniture I should delay past October. Once I have my promotion in November (fingers crossed), I'll have much more extra disposable income. So going to Europe in the spring is the very best idea. Either way it probably doesn't matter. I'm just splitting hairs; I am fortunate.

Well, some thinking to do. I feel like someone at a buffet who doesn't know at all what to pick. Tough problem, I realize. But still, the thing I dislike most about myself is that I get stuck sometimes. I suspect it's that I don't want to make a mistake - I want perfection - which attitude I rather despise at this point. The best things almost always come when one is spontaneous, really.

Actually, I think that one reason for my wellbeing at the moment is directly related to this exact sentiment - about spontaneity, that is - which was delivered to me yesterday by Marco ("happiness comes when you less look for it. Just be yourself and do what you want, like you did last year. Don't think about it - do it."). Don't judge, please, but I've received a few emails from him this week. We've been talking a bit. I told him the exact truth about my feelings, in response to his first mail - my sometimes loneliness, what I did about Foreign Affairs, what I can't decide about trips or projects or my future, fears. And what was lovely was that I wasn't asking for any special attention or any elongated replies. Still, he wrote to me every day with new ideas and caring friendship.

I don't care if he's just a friend - I mean, that's not true on one level, of course, but I've accepted what is and am not planning to see him in the near future - but it's damn great to know that he wants to be my friend. And he clearly means it. He said he wants us to be "friends forever." He wrote to me this morning to tell me that I'm "sweet and special. And you always will be."

So it sounds weird and triumphant or even needy and deluded, but I actually don't feel any of those things. Not at all. Instead, I feel warmed and cheered in my heart by knowing that I have a real friend who cares about me and will make the effort for me. He knows that I'm not going to come over there in the near future. He's not suggesting or promising anything. In fact, we've agreed that I need to meet someone. But I have a friend and I believe a true friend. How many of those do you get in life?

Well, every now and then you get one or two. As you get older you know when they arrive because they don't come along every day.

I think, too, that as you get older you appreciate that friends are often worth ten times what a lover is worth.

Or at least that's been my experience. And as I write that that just sounds dumb - a no brainer, so to speak. :)

So the oven is warm and the yeasty bread just went in. And I'm OK. Better than OK, really. I'm having fun working all of this out.

XO

12:11 a.m. - 2009-08-30

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