do not feed the birds.

As most of you probably didn't know, I lented the internet for a couple weeks. Now, some of you may be wondering why there are a few posts after the seventeenth of February up until now. So, I confess to that. But I admit they were for important reasons, reasons I wanted to share, and, in my defense, at least one of them was on a Sunday (which I heard from someone is the only day it's okay to indulge your folly). I'm sure you're expecting me to tell you about all the incredible insights I gained from my world wide web fast. I will. Just not yet. It could be a combination of not quite knowing if I learned anything, or knowing that nothing I learned was all that incredible. (Which isn't to say I didn't learn any thing unbelievable, but maybe I'm challenging my own definition of the word. Who knows?)
But I do know that perhaps some of you have been faithfully waiting for my words of wisdom on money. Which, I promise, are coming soon.
In other news, I have started (reading) a new book. I also have some sort of ideas as to what could happen in 2011.
So, there's that.

on forgetting to be selfish.

Congratulations, Papa Bear.

on still behaving shyly around eligible strangers.

I have a few things to say about this. (The photograph and others things.) Firstly, I did not take this picture. That acknowledgement goes to Johan Stolpe. Most of you know who the subject is.
Secondly, I'd like to give you some advice on walking trails with someone. If you love some one romantically, it's usually o.k. to let them know that. If you love some one platonically, it's usually even more o.k., too. What I have learned from many many days and hours and minutes is the importance of sweetness. What I mean is that if we are completely honest with ourselves there are a few handfulls of people on our trails that think, act, or do most exactly the same things as we do. More often than not, we may find ourselves trekking up and down hills with someone who has a little stronger opinions, or says weird things, or plays in the sand. We can either keep hiking or turn back in search of a traveling party who only eat marshmellows and wear Patagonia. Oftentimes, however, if we keep walking, or even just moving, our peculiar companions lead us to really great vistas, and greater sliding rocks, or the best kissing trees. So many times I have thought of turning back on this long journey to search for my marshmellow-loving, fleece-wearing strangers. But, I always meet the faces of my faithfully-opposite journeyers, especially one in particular, and I can't help but turn my heels and lengthen my stride to catch back up. There is always some thing more to show me just around that next bend.

a's thoughts on valentine's day.

I am not cynical. Honest. I love Valentine's Day! I love love. I love the Format. Remember? All I`m saying is that maybe Valentine's Day isn't the best day to get engaged. But I can't rag on my little brother for it. Big sisters don't do that sort of stuff. I can't say that I'm not slightly jealous or nervous or excited, because I am. But no body needs to feel pressure for that. And even though the situation is maybe a little more than conversation hearts, red carnations, and tin-foiled chocolates, we don't forget that either. All I'm saying is if you`re going to start a family, you may want a little money in your pockets; and if you want to make that girl into your wife, then you had better make sure that antique ring won`t set you back too far. And if you're going to say yes to that boy (yes, that one), then please realize that he has the best of intentions, most likely yours at heart, but he is not a man. Not yet. Other than that, stay dry & don't let too many people tell you what will & won't happen. It already is.

Thoughts on $, coming soon.

on postponing.

we talked for about an hour the other night
&i was able to end the conversation in a peculiarly peacefull mood.
"we do really want the same things?"

truly, is it so simple as that?

A's thoughts on $.

coming soon!

on misspellings.

I know I am supposed to be paying attention to my peers, these words, etc., etc.

But right now all I can think about are lovely ragamuffins, greying pony tails, raspy voices-
"Hi, Tiffany"'s and
"Hi, Dave"'s and
"Ashley the Addict."

All I can smell is brewing coffee, the tin of the carafe, the smokey sweetness of second-hand ash draining from the tip of your Marlboro.

All I can do is exist.

"How long has it been again?"
30 days? 60? 2 years?

It is a start.