Originally posted 09.27.2005

After my last post, I haven't known what to write. Nothing seems that important in light of the devastation of the Gulf; this former resident of a northern Mississippi state is suffering some sort of survivor’s guilt. I sent money. Discussed taking a paid leave to volunteer down there, though I don’t know what I could do.

But we get on with it, right? My obsession with online newspaper accounts of the flood has ebbed; my brain is no longer 80% New Orleans-centric. (Note: even before the flood, that city occupied room, a lot of it, for years. Any given day, at least 15% of my being is listening for a brass band, my skin remembering the bloom of humidity in late-spring Louisiana.)

I’m more than a month into my job now. Feeling at turns completely useless and wondering whatever the hell did they do without me. I’ve been at peak mileage for marathon training that same length of time and I’m living in what I can only guess to be an athlete’s body. Really. Not just thin, not just fit. It’s all tough and resiliant. The calves seem like someone else’s.

There was a man in my life, but there isn’t any more. He wanted too much too soon, in startling contrast with the one before him, who wanted less than I could possibly not give. I do feel like the gods of romance are having their fun with me, and would appreciate them to knock it off. They sent me Mr. De Boer 13 years ago; haven’t I paid my dues already?

Ah, and the music. I’m giving it far less than I want, but it’s still working out. It’s really starting to flow, to be an extension of me. I can do it now when I’m tired. There’s a strength that didn’t used to be.

So. Enough about me. How are y’all? Leave a comment (unless you’re the spambot that attaches links to porn sites, in which case, please desist) and let me know how you’re doing. I have no idea who visits this blog these days.