Right Through Me.
Mar. 3rd, 2005 07:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
greenstormChris and I were up late talking last night - nothing special, we just hadn't seen each other for awhile with time to talk and so we kept going until midnight. You know how that goes - the urge to connect is so much stronger than those basic physical needs sometimes.
I woke up at 6:30am with the sun shining in through the window and the sky a bright, sunny blue. How can you sleep with a day like that? I got up, did a lot of internet housekeeping, made breakfast and shared it with Chris, showered, dressed for work, then promptly fell asleep in the bed with my book. I made it to work in time, waking up two hours later (I love my work) with enough time to do a good job, but ended up missing mom's citizenship swearing-in. That's fine, though, because she and Al were both very tired and went right home to sleep afterwards (hah).
That left me at something like 4:00 with an afternoon to kill. I took myself on a date to a restaurant, which is something I love to do. This one was called Zanzibar on the Drive, and like a lot of places in that area it had superb tea - this one a mint/green blend. It's a moroccan place with servers/backpeople who are very friendly both with each other and with me, so I listened to them chat and ate slowly and read my book, which is called Gardens of the Moon and is kicking into high gear finally after a slow, confusing beginning. Perhaps because of that, it's a very engrossing book.
The mint tea, did I mention, was absolutely wonderful, a good enough sensory experience that I almost ended up in tears. Right before I left a song came on, Sting's Every Breath You Take (I've heard all the stalker song jokes, please) which was Kynnin and my song for the longest time. For the first few months I went over we'd play the midi of it, back before mp3s impinged upon my consciousness. I walked back and caught a bus to MEC, looking for shoes (I've heard that something called holeysoles has very good arch support, they're a Vancouver company, but made in China. What?) and wandered around MEC for awhile, just being inside my own skin. It took forever to catch a bus back, and I watched the sun finish going down from the bus stop on Broadway, watching full busses sail by and feeling the incipient evening chill. It really was a lovely day, though I still feel that overwhelming sense of-- what is it? Imminence. The barrier between the mundane and the larger world feels breached, and I'm raw. It's a spiritual/religious feeling, and I haven't felt it in a long time. It's good. It makes me thin-skinned and fragile, but open.
My rats were here to welcome me home.
I'm so very tired right now, but it doesn't feel as if the day's done. Little images from the restaurant come back - the sun through the glass of tea, with little sediment of leaf slowly falling to the bottom between my fingers, the stripe of long, bright yellow-orange in the sky from the Drive while I was walking back to Broadway, the wheel of a bike from Chris' blog photos. I'm here. Sleep is very far away.
I woke up at 6:30am with the sun shining in through the window and the sky a bright, sunny blue. How can you sleep with a day like that? I got up, did a lot of internet housekeeping, made breakfast and shared it with Chris, showered, dressed for work, then promptly fell asleep in the bed with my book. I made it to work in time, waking up two hours later (I love my work) with enough time to do a good job, but ended up missing mom's citizenship swearing-in. That's fine, though, because she and Al were both very tired and went right home to sleep afterwards (hah).
That left me at something like 4:00 with an afternoon to kill. I took myself on a date to a restaurant, which is something I love to do. This one was called Zanzibar on the Drive, and like a lot of places in that area it had superb tea - this one a mint/green blend. It's a moroccan place with servers/backpeople who are very friendly both with each other and with me, so I listened to them chat and ate slowly and read my book, which is called Gardens of the Moon and is kicking into high gear finally after a slow, confusing beginning. Perhaps because of that, it's a very engrossing book.
The mint tea, did I mention, was absolutely wonderful, a good enough sensory experience that I almost ended up in tears. Right before I left a song came on, Sting's Every Breath You Take (I've heard all the stalker song jokes, please) which was Kynnin and my song for the longest time. For the first few months I went over we'd play the midi of it, back before mp3s impinged upon my consciousness. I walked back and caught a bus to MEC, looking for shoes (I've heard that something called holeysoles has very good arch support, they're a Vancouver company, but made in China. What?) and wandered around MEC for awhile, just being inside my own skin. It took forever to catch a bus back, and I watched the sun finish going down from the bus stop on Broadway, watching full busses sail by and feeling the incipient evening chill. It really was a lovely day, though I still feel that overwhelming sense of-- what is it? Imminence. The barrier between the mundane and the larger world feels breached, and I'm raw. It's a spiritual/religious feeling, and I haven't felt it in a long time. It's good. It makes me thin-skinned and fragile, but open.
My rats were here to welcome me home.
I'm so very tired right now, but it doesn't feel as if the day's done. Little images from the restaurant come back - the sun through the glass of tea, with little sediment of leaf slowly falling to the bottom between my fingers, the stripe of long, bright yellow-orange in the sky from the Drive while I was walking back to Broadway, the wheel of a bike from Chris' blog photos. I'm here. Sleep is very far away.
