Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes

Things aren't always perfect. In fact, they might never be perfect. But, there's one way to counter that: overwhelming, inordinate optimism.

I often find myself in the position of token optimist; when my friends have pessimistic tendencies, I'm typically the person they come to. Funny, though, I can't always do that for myself. However, as of late, I am sensing a shift in my self-administration. I'm becoming more hopeful for my own sake. How exciting, right?

It's a beautiful day, and it's my day off. I'm having lunch with my friend and while I wait I'm blogging from the side porch. The breeze is blowing and the dog's sleeping next to me... it doesn't get much better than this. Thanks, Universe.

Sunday Funday

It was a beautiful, well spent day off, in three parts:

First: Brunch for two. Two Bloody Marys, two Eggs Benedict, and two steaming cups of coffee.

Second: Cocktails at Joe's.

Third: Mussels at the Black Bass, followed by a delicious butterscotch creme brulee. One table outside, one bowl of mussels, two martinis and a couple hours of conversation; it was an awesome afternoon.

I have to work in the early morning so I called it a night early. But, being awake & alert at the office tomorrow seems worth it.

In other news, R & I have been talking a lot and I'm wondering: What happens when the future changes because of the long-since past? Was it always like this?

Even though I came home early, my active memory will keep me up all night.

Fountain of (My) Youth

Here's another favorite spot of mine in Downtown. For a few years, it was what my roommates and I considered "The Front Yard."

It's where people toss pennies in and make wishes; it's where I've kissed boys; it's where I've broken up with boys; it's where I've lounged and read and dog-walked. And it's so damn pretty at night.

I love my city.

In Flight

This tragic, dismantled, littered and overgrown void in Downtown is one of my favorite spots... the bird silhouettes specifically. It's just a small glimpse at a beautiful surprise in the midst of an ugly situation... a metaphor I'm often inclined to adhere to.

There has to be something surprising and miraculous in every downtrodden situation, right?

Anyway, in honor of their metaphorical flight, I'll talk about my own: I decided to not see the Boy anymore. I flew away. Fast, like always.

Sometimes being single feels tragic. Sometimes it feels just right.