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10.21.2002 | link |


in my headphones: “sick day” / fountains of wayne

a weekend like any other weekend. another unspectacular, unextraordinary weekend. and like every weekend before it, monday rolls its dead weight over me and leaves me with the gnawing feeling that i should reflect on my life like it’s new year’s eve.

so here’s what i’m thinking about today.

a few saturdays ago, a group of us had gathered outside in a friend’s back yard. it seemed like the rain clouds had ducked behind the hills just to give us the saturated blue and orange of dusk. and after the signature silhouetted palm trees of a california sunset, the moon outdid herself by making the vegetable garden glow.

between the citrus trees and tomato plants, we sat around a wooden table with orange faces from the candlelight. each with a glass of dewers or wine or strawberry daiquiri (my contribution) in hand. some telling funny stories. some in quieter side conversations. some laughing. some just leaning back and listening.

as the night grew older and the yawns more frequent, we all headed back up the steps to the little spanish house he’s been renting—carrying the emptied glasses, candles, and a half-eaten almond cake.

it was a dreamy VW-commercial moment. (you know, the one where the two young couples are driving in a cabrio on a windy road, underneath fireflies and a starry, starry night?)

and in that moment, i was suddenly aware that this is usually the time when i start to feel young and free and alive and all those things—whether real or imagined—that leave me feeling exhilarated just for having experienced it.

but i didn’t.

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