Wednesday, May 25, 2005

A Phoenix and Some Unicorns

All I want is a glass of Pinot Noir.

Throw in a thunderstorm (purely for the fact that my pup behaves because he is terrified of thunder) and my book (Middlesex for anyone who hasn't read it) and I'll call it a night. I've been feeling very nastalgic and emotional today. My hormones feel as though they have been put in a blender and set to "pulse." All mixed up and choppy, like a post-Tsunami sea. My nail beds have become a victim, yet again, of my teeth. They were looking so nice too. But one convoy convo and BAM. Fuck you army, I'll just bite my nails. Passive aggressive you're table's now available...

I emailed my girlfriends this morning. I was looking at the pictures on my desk, then at pictures on such fabulous and wonderous sites such as It made me miss them. I've written about them before... these beautiful creatures that have enchanted my life ever since I met them. Each of them different and unique, but all of them beautiful. Not just on the outside, although that is certainly the first thing you notice about them, but there's a spark of passion in each one of them. I think that's what makes them so intriguing.

In my writing here in the past, I have referred to them as the unicorns to my elephant. But perhaps this analogy is not quite as true. I feel like a phoenix, being reborn from my own ashes, reinventing myself each time I blow up in flames. I'd much rather be a phoenix than an elephant. At least then we're all mythological creatures. Maybe that's our common bond.

Either way, I miss these ladies from my past life more than I miss the peppermint ice cream Eddy's puts out in winter. When I'm writing my book, sometimes I think I ought to start over and write about them, where their lives might lead, all the amazing things they might do. But I'd rather wait it out and see it for myself.

I know we are destined for great things, each of us making our way through the world, laying the stepping stones for our future one rock at time, trying not to fall in the river below. I can only hope our paths are close enough, though, that when we do fall in, someone else is there to help us out.
posted by Kellie @ 3:14 PM |


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