Tonight I had dinner with an old friend and I told him about how I bought myself an inexpensive purse for Christmas. It's lovely, and locally handmade, and I was thinking I'd wear it when I go out on the occasional date so that I will come across as casual and down-to-earth as one can seem without ever wearing pants (or, moreso, as one can seem while having purchased a vintage fur wrap at auction for a song last night because it was the same color as my hair). Overall, I might take things down a notch or two in 2009, which I am going to approach with all loveliness and enchantment and gossamer good intentions and no bones whatsoever; the kind of year where you have no doubt that all of the love that you'll ever need in your whole life can already be found in your own heart. Anyway, this clever man, in his easy way, nodded thoughtfully at my pretty-on-the-inside confession and pulled out a gift certificate to Zipcar as he informed me that less than a handful of blocks away from my apartment, I can go and pick up a BMW whenever I want! So I think I'll chuck the superficialities and be myself-- seems to be working so far. Minutes before that, Lisa Yuskavage came by and said hello to us and touched my shoulder and I was so shy that I barely cracked a smile while a million thoughts raced through my head but mostly: I'll never wash it again. Afterward, I came home and talked on the phone with another pal, who totally gets me, about big plans, or the broadest sketch of them, and allowed myself to dream a little about the pleasure that might be possible in life (as opposed to being guided wholly by my bred-in-the-bone duty to persevere), and I liked the way I was feeling so much that I took a picture so that I'll remember it forever. And then wrote it down here, for the same reason. Right now I'm about to climb into bed with James Salter's A Sport and a Pastime, as I often do (I stay in the car with Christina, our heads leaning back, our eyes closed. "He's a nice boy," she says. "Don't you wish you were that young again?" "I'm not that old." "Baby..." she says soothingly.) I have to work over the next few days and hope to get a break before or just after the New Year. And then I'll be back, as always, with more of the usual plus the shock of the new. Until then, I'm turning down the bright lights here at Lux Lotus, but I'll leave the twinkly ones on, the ones with the glittery strands that shine just for you. XO, doves. Be good.
Updated: I replaced the photo from last night with a better one that I took today!