the big O

  ran out of crocks,
  so i settled for a giant coffee cup
  to host a hearty, homemade
  Onion soup. not quite
  as good as what i had in Paris,
  but pretty damn tasty for
  my very first time.

Seen & Heard

* My father's feet gliding across the wooden floor to a tango-waltz as I hold on tight.
* "It's awesome going through stuff with you. Thank you, thank you for loving me." - Jewels

Sleepless in the Hills

I had lots to drink tonight. Lots could mean an entire bottle or just 1 wine glass. In this case, it was 3. I spilled some... and do remember not filling them up to the rim... Perhaps it's more appropriate to say that tonight was one goblet the size of my fist that got me drunk. Forgive my rambling on. I've been startled out of a deep slumber. Socks still on (oooh, I hate that). My friend drank along with me. My dear friend, who was kind enough to listen to a story about a fear of mine the size of my fist. In fear-speak, that's just too f*cking big. We shared ideas about having fear. Understanding what is. I dare say, even accepting its existence in our respective worlds. In my drunken haze, I told about an incident with the patriarch in my family and opened a wound. But, I also told him how this experience lead to the healing of another. Our conversation then jumped into the aging process, confidence versus not caring, who affects us, what doesn't matter, where art falls into the love equation... ah yes, and then we decided that "love is not something you find, it's something you build." In this instance, just now, I realized what startled me.

We ended our night with Indian food and a rather goofy conversation about years from now when we are too old to drink up and hopefully still building.

Sleepy now... zzz

Deliver Us...

"The only time Christ ever got angry was when he went to church."
- Father Tom Doyle