oh three

new years eve in a cheap motel room. pink roses on the bedspread, times square on the television. i’m tired, and just want to sleep. we kiss at the appropriate moment and say goodnight.

the next day, i’m home. we’re home.

since then, it’s been unpacking and building bookshelves and planning out the next few weeks. i say, i’m getting my life in order. we ask eachother– if anyone had told you this, six months ago, a year ago, would you have believed?

no. i wouldn’t have. he wouldn’t have. this is okay.

i need to write. i need to finish unpacking. i need to post the pictures from the roadtrip. i need to take pictures of the new room. last night, at a show at gallery, a man gave me a large triangle of brie. because i’m a college student and therefore broke. i’m going to the grocery store today, to get a tomato and a small red onion. i’m going to make an omelette. i have january postcards for so many people, but no stamps to send them with. i’ll do something about that.

i’m a polaroid picture kind of girl, planning the dream sequence, and i keep finding my heart spilling out of the oddest places.