Looks like I'm so far reverting to the once a month format of my previous blog. Considering the amount I paid for it, you'd think I'd post slightly more regularly. And the thought just struck me that I'm one of those self-published writers. You know who I mean -- the ones who write something that no one will buy so they pay crazy amounts of money for some hack publisher to print so they can give them away to friends and family. Oh lawdy.
It's one of those nights where I need to sit down and watch Amélie with a healthy dose of the pumpkin vodka that just finished getting all yummy and pretend that things like that could happen to girls like me. You know that scene in the diner where the guy comes in and she literally turns into a puddle on the floor? Yeah, that's been happening to me with this guy at the gym. I've started seeing him around town too, though admittedly at first it took me a while to recognize him with his clothes on. Well, ok, actually I wasn't sure it was him until I saw him again at the gym. Not exactly love, but it does make me think (again) about how I've spent half my life alone and how tired I'm getting of that. And yes, I mean half since I don't plan to live past 60 because, let's face it, at that point there's not even a small hope of ever being hot again. Unless you're Patrick Stewart. Why do you think I drink Earl and/or Lady Grey Tea every day?
I've been loving the fall, though. North Carolina has just enough of it to make me happy, even if not quite what I'm used to. On Halloween I went with a couple co-workers, Martha and James, to this nice little restaurant in Chapel Hill called Weathervane to celebrate Martha's birthday. It was a cool day and the breeze was blowing the leaves around and it was the sort of day where you'd want to sit outside and write. It was perfect. Then this week was the first that I've been able to wear a sweater to work. Except it's been nearly 70 the last couple days. Grrr. I want the cold back.
I leave you, though, with this seemingly random sonnet that has been my favorite since I first read it ~15 years ago, and which continues to open itself up to me as I get older, Mr. Shakespeare's 29th:
When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries
And look upon myself and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess'd,
Desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least;
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate;
For thy sweet love remember'd such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.