tuckova

So I am drinking a glass of beet juice and vinegar because it is delicious. Remind me later when I'm doubled over in pain that I did this to myself and that I'm perfectly fine.

Being back from Costa Rica is still difficult. It is so, so cold here. Why are there countries that are so cold, and why do people continue to live in them? And why do we make them so pretty? I bet if there was less beautiful architecture we'd come to our senses and run to the equator, en masse. Well, I'd still live here March through October I expect. They put on a good summer here. On the plus side, there is work to do and so a reason to stay in, most days. Though I've been out most days, as I am very popular, as I'm sure you know. Well not really but I did go out every night last week, and several nights this week. So: demented and sad, but social.

What's to say. There's not much. We get up, we eat breakfast, then Squire goes to school and I work in friendly bursts and try to catch up with my reading, though I am so behind. I think about art, which I have not done since… well, maybe never. I dated a guy in college who helpfully pointed out that I can't even doodle. This was very good for my self-confidence as an artist. Well whatever: I gave paid poetry readings so I wasn't really destroyed or anything, just much less inclined to the visual arts. But anyway that seems to be changing, which is a fun thing to watch myself in. So working and reading and thinking. And then school is over and sometimes he studies or we bury ourselves in our online social lives and have something good for dinner and then sometimes I go out and he goes to bed, and sometimes someone comes over, and sometimes we watch a movie or glut ourselves on television. And sometimes other things. It is quiet and good, this life.

I am rethinking a quiz that I started to write a few years ago that started "Can you name all 12 Supreme Court Justices?" I abandoned it because I thought it was useless except for my own amusement, and now I think: Are there more important goals, really? It is not that I lack free time, or rather it is not as if I spend all my time wisely in the first place. 

Getting older is kind of weird. Middle aged. I like it. I feel like I am young enough to still learn stuff, and old enough to know what I'm learning it for. Young enough to have people older and wiser than I am, but old enough to feel justified in being bossy. It's kind of magical.