A Treasure Found at Home

I woke to the sound of rain this morning. I would love to have been able to just stay in bed listening. The rain creates a calm cozy-ness when it falls here.

I think I was also feeling calm because of all the wine I drank last night. Tut took me to Millennium, where we indulged in the oh so delicious V-Day menu along with the wine pairings. My wrists were numb by the time we left.

I can’t say each wine served was one I would want again, but they were clearly good wines. I’m just not much for sweet wines, though I’m learning.

I’ve been spoiled lately in terms of food. Sunday was a brunch (Brunch!) out with a friend and then the very best sushi I’ve ever had for dinner. Millennium last night, and then lunch with another friend today. mmmm…if food was always this good I would certainly eat a lot more!

I’ve been in a fantastic mood the past few days. I’m feeling stronger and more secure. I’m still nervous about a lot; I figure that pretty much just goes with being human. I’m feeling more intellectual again. I’m mulling over dharma questions and psychology questions (my own personal theories about office life).

I spent some time Sunday taking pictures. Not that they were particularly fantastic, but I haven’t played around much beyond snapshots in so long. Somehow, even if the shots aren’t any good, playing around with the camera always helps to some degree.

I remember driving from my apartment out by channel 11 to C’s place after running into him a few months after we broke up. We were going to have dinner and I was SO nervous. I had my camera with me and I took pictures of the speedometer and of downtown as I drove across the empty middle ground. I wonder where those prints are now. The only print I know I have for sure from that time is me in the mirror with the Dorito. I can’t seem to let that one go.

Me looking through the lens, and him in the background. Hands on hips. Frowning. Disapproving. I think he was frowning at one of the kids who was over that day.

There’s so much energy there still. Can I let it out through dancing? It certainly seems to help. Through writing? Somehow I still miss the mark; maybe I’m not ready. It’s a feeling which strikes me sometimes. A calm otherness. The eye of the hurricane. I guess I’ll start to let it go when I can feel the storm and still feel safe.