Good Morning

'So did you sleep like a Chevrolet truck? . . . Like a rock?'

My Kind of Friday Night

Sitting with an old friend made new again. Sitting with her and my love, old beats and new beats from the laptop, the stereo, our voices in laughter. I wouldn't trade it for a pretty pub, a rich meal out, a walk in the rain. Just existing. Breathing. Dancing. Laughing. An old friend made new.

Gotta do...

'I was all excited right now cause I thought we could go brush our teeth and be in bed by a quarter to twelve.'

...what the missus says. I don't mind at all.

Two Sides of the Track

I'll walk one side.
You walk the other.
Reaching toward the center,
We'll find our way forward.

Spiders on the Rise

The Saturday newspaper the other week talked about spider numbers on the rise. I was going to write today about how I've become obsessed with the spiders living in my backyard, their intricate webs, the large bodies, and the simple co-existence of them and me. It is true, we do exist quite peacefully--me in the house, them in my bushes--however, I just looked at a few photos from the newspaper website of common spiders and, well, I've lost my nerve to write about them. Until tomorrow (if I don't have any nightmares).

What a Night

What a night: It has been two years since I had the where-with-all to slide into the dining room seat next to my love over a few dying candles and lean in just so. It was her that actually kissed me though. Which was perfect in my books.

Intoxicated from the wine tasting evening which we just attended at our favorite cafe around the corner, Ricks of Tooting, we are a merry pair. And one quick to turn off the computer in favor of more celebratory delights. The likes of which I will leave you to imagine. Good night and que suenos con los angelitos.

Writing Assignment

Dear One A Day,

Hello friend. I would begin by saying 'Hello Old Friend,' but I feel that would be a falsity. In fact, in the scheme of my 24 year old life, you are still a new friend having made a committment to writing to you every day just shy of five months ago on Wednesday May the 6th, 2009. Really, you are a new friend and yet I feel close to you. But today, I am owning that my committment to you has waivered in recent weeks.

It would almost be easier if you were a real-life person where the amount of unreturned phone calls or text messages were unrecorded and could slip past the scruntiness eye. But no, that was part of the cleverness of this committment: the blog itself would track when and how often I blogged. There is no fudging the deadlines online, where a computer controls your time stamps and the internet is your watchdog.

I do give myself some credit that the only time I dropped to 3 posts a week was during the final moments of my university coursework this summer, but those weeks of (7) during June and July just make my heart hum. And I want it back.

So, today, One A Day, I recommit to posting to you your dedicated daily dose of durges, your loving litany of lists, your horribly hokey haikus and especially your random rantings once within a 24 hour period, 7 days a week. Seven is our lucky number and Vegas is next, baby, you know it.

Love your faithful writer once more,
Erica