I can gather all the news I need from the weather report

(Simon and Garfunkel, "The Only Living Boy in New York")

I had one of those really scary mornings today. I don't know where it came from. I woke from a broken sleep with my mouth open, which I really hate, and suddenly I wanted to cry. I felt like everything was swirling away from me and I would never touch anything familiar again. I had to hang on to the sheets to keep from washing away with it all.

It made me moody. That may sound silly. To me it sounds understated. I am at least glad that I have reached a point in my life, after a handful of therapists, theories and frustrations, when I know myself well enough to kick my own ass, cry in the shower, and get on with it.

I had this song, "Such Great Heights," from Iron & Wine in my head. It's soothing, even for a love song.

I'm
thinkin' it's a sign
that the freckles in our eyes
are mirror images
and when we kiss they're perfectly aligned

and I
have to speculate
if God himself did make
us into corresponding shapes
like puzzle pieces from the clay
...

they will see us waving from such great heights
come down now, they'll say
everything looks perfect from far away
come down now, but we'll stay...


Tonight I'll hang out with The Maldenites: Christi, El Gato and El Jefe. We're carving pumpkins, and then they'll try to abduct me for a sleepover. I think it will be good to escape my own bed.