17 April 2001

Different Directions

Oh darling, yes I can rage. It wasn’t my finest hour, but I certainly can get in touch with my inner bitch when the moment is ripe. She sits there so patiently waiting for her turn.

I shake it off a little – the loom of days, the bigger picture, the universe of possibilities. Worry about my own little garden. Cultivate the richness of my own life and don’t fret over the wasted strands of DNA and spilled water on the world.

I had lunch with Max today at the Sheraton Palace. Cau ca vin and crème brulee. Chatter about family and days gone by and days to come. A smooth little discourse without a single pregnant pause or conversations hiccup that all to often accompanies the unfamiliar. A big embrace and a parting of ways to our separate trains that never keeps us so far apart even when they’re speeding off in different directions.

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