Intrepid Girl Reporter

Monday, 3/1: I want to talk to my avocado
March 1, 2010, 11:20 pm
Filed under: life progress

I have been in this house for one whole year, one year exactly, which means that it’s been a year since I was getting four hours of sleep a night, a year since my grandmother died, a year since I’ve slept on that godawful couch in that godawful cold house on Capitol Hill. It’s a lovely thing, to not be living out of a suitcase anymore, although I confess to a little bit of antsiness. I can’t help it. It’s in my bones. This is the longest I’ve stayed in one place since I was eighteen, which was six years ago, a fact I try not to contemplate too much. (See: Joyce Maynard.) It’s a strange thing, to be so domestic and yet so accustomed to motion. I’m not even sure which one is the natural inclination anymore. Nature? Nurture? Who knows.

In a lot of important ways, though, it feels as though I’ve rejoined this city in the past couple of weeks. I’m auditioning for a choir. (Which I have not done since high school.) I’m working on an article proposal for A Real Magazine. I’m taking a class at the Alliance Francaise in an effort to not lose the one foreign language I know at a level higher than first grade, and I am remembering how much fun it is to learn stuff. I am starting to feel again the compulsion to learn things and to share them – for example, the fact that Julius Caesar’s death is commemorated with a drunk run in Rome every year by the Hash House Harriers. Does that weird anyone else out? Because I find it a little disturbing.

This is ramblier than I wanted, probably because I am a little out of blogging practice (for this purpose, at least), but what I am trying to say here is that I am slowly starting to take root a little again. Even if there are still nights, such as this one, when I find myself rereading old poetry and navel-gazing for too long. I have Nina Simone’s cover of “Who Knows Where The Time Goes” stuck in my head and I swear it’s a coincidence.


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