washwords

So, it is summer in the district. Despite all my verrry exciting news and the fun of telling everyone, it is August… in Washington D.C…. in a federal government agency.

It is deadsville, U S of A.

[Photo by “Garden Apartment” on flickr.]

While quiet can be nice, really nice, it can also be … quiet.
Very. quiet.
So. quiet. that I… am. starting. to. drifffffttttt.

Like a snowbank:
smooth, serene and sleepy.

Sure, blame it on the grey carpets, grey walls, empty hallways, lack of boss-like figures but is there something else going on?

I have loottssss of work to do and can’t seem to do anything besides think weddingy thoughts, watch olympics and literally stare into space. a happy stare into space, a deep deep calm, slumbery smiley stare into space.

I think I know what it is. Like how I used to get sick right after finals every semester, or how you go home and take a longgg nap after finally finishing that project. I think I have been stressing and fretting and relationshipping for so so long before meeting my love that now that I can rest my body is really ready to REST.

And rest I am, body, mind and soul in this blissy spacey sleepy place i am not too familiar with. maybe it’s happy?

Micro-essays Five through Ten of my 35/365 project.

What’s 35/365 or x365? See here.

5/365 Ben: Two years old. At bedtime, under your covers, after stories, after water and teethbrushing for you and your brother, you tell me, “but I still have words to say.” I remember this 20 years later.

6/365:”Yellow-Line Friend, 2005″ He won’t be coming to the airport, so I take the train through the winter morning, 2005. I can’t stop crying. You hand me a tissue and say it will get better. I believe you.

7/365: Mr. Marusa: In fifth grade, I wonder if I can become an author when I grow up. You say I have talent, and (NOT “but”) that the future is up to me. Thank you for the “and.”

8/365: Joserra: “Do you know of a band, the J. Giles Band? I think that this is most excellent American band, don’t you??” My Basque country hiking guide, you coached me well, guiding me in laughing again.

9/365 Roald Dahl: In Europe, when I was six, we devoured your books. “Danny, the Champion…” Dad read in our Dutch apartment, “James and the Giant Peach,” waiting for the ferry. They were funny and smart and home.

10/365: Matt: You say “You just don’t know how much I need you.”  But I do.
Your need is mine for your strong arms, laughing storytelling, and warm, pure heart enveloping mine. Thank you for finding me.

See here for the complete set as it evolves: http://washwords.com/words/35×365

Sorry for the delay.  There’s been a lot going on!

ta da! here's washwords

BTW: stop yer complainin. You just saw washwords (till I take it down. the interweb is a scary place.)

And speaking of the interweb…it IS a crazy place, and mostly not in a scary, but just in a fascinating way.  And nowhere did I see this more than in sharing my very good news.

In 1997, if you became engaged, you called people you wanted to know. Those people usually asked who they should/could tell and the word spread to exactly those people. I think I did send a few emails to the friends of friends. My email address was v01269b3x7@.  I’d heard of cell phones. Old people and wealthy people had them in their cars. Sometimes.

In 2008, when you tell the world you’re engaged, you TELL THE WORLD. At once.  Meaning my long-lost elementary school playmates found out about the same time as my bestest DC bud’s hubby, my former Read the rest of this entry »