for the last two fridays seth has gone to columbo's for beers after work. it's a funny old nondescript bar and steakhouse a few blocks from our house. it's his kind of place, he says, $2 beers. afterward he likes to tell me about the characters he meets there and my favourite part about it, other than hearing the stories, is the way he tells them, always with a laugh. i'm writing about this now because he's not going to, and i want him to have something that will help him remember this period in his life someday. in the early stages of our friendship he wrote about trying to remember what his life was like a year prior, and seemed ultimately to have reminded himself only of the mundanity of it all. on the surface most of life is like that, but it's the little things that put it all together. sometimes i ask that we record some of our conversations, for the time capsule we'll need someday, because we talk so much about so many things that it's hard even to remember what we talked about a day ago. but i remember one thing we talked about last friday. i made him take a survey on values i took at work, so i asked him to name three things that were important to him. he said "stella." i asked him to name one thing he loved, and he said "stella." i asked him to name one thing he wanted. i asked him to name one thing he needed. he said "stella." i don't know why i don't write about him more often, when he is all i ever think about.

i walked into an elevator carriage today that smelled thickly of vanilla. it made me think of my husband, who, ironically, hates it when i light vanilla candles in the house. i don't think that's the connection though. i think really, it's because of the baking we do together, the scent from the vanilla extract..

i went to palm springs for the first time over the weekend. i guess it's partly why i'm so restless now. still in holiday mode. and i've become so spoiled overnight. i want to live in a hotel forever and always. i want to have my morning coffee in the lobby and play the grand piano outside the ballroom quietly at midnight. i love the white sheets and comfy bathrobes and i'd picnic on the bed all the time and read by the pool. take a breather in the water, warm back up in the spa and repeat.

yesterday i leaned against a lamp pole waiting for the light to change. i was surprised by its warmth. it had been absorbing the heat of the sun all day long, it was like a living thing and it felt so good. so i pressed against it some more.

bored. sad. drifty.

last weekend was our wedding reception. it is still too exhausting to write all about yet, but it all turned out to be a wonderful experience that i would do again and again.

this weekend was about simple pleasures. my husband took me to the arroyo seco driving range late friday, the cool night air was a delight and it was so nice to do nothing but hit balls. i'm not very good of course, but it was fun. saturday we spent some gift cards at the beverly hills williams-sonoma and i had a latte and flan at a sidewalk cafe. i took my white dress in for cleaning and we bought avocados and made guacamole in advance for sunday lunch. we had tons of cream left from the reception, so today we made four batches of ice-cream: green tea, chocolate, strawberry and strawberry mint. the green tea is for my mother, a little too sweet but flavourful. we steeped the tea leaves in milk. it smelled so incredible. i wanted to make the strawberry. i had been craving it. and we already had the mint growing in our little herb garden. we use an old-school machine that requires ice and salt to freeze the ice-cream. my favourite part is taking off the lid to reveal the icy goodness. second best is eating the ice-cream collected on the stirrer right out of the machine. i made one of my favourite cold salads tonight (farfalle, walnuts, baby spinach, red onions, red bell peppers and roasted turkey) and in a minute here i will go open another leftover bottle of champagne and mix it with french berry lemonade. sit outside a bit.

i am kind of excited about summer's arrival. i don't look forward to the heat but we'll get to eat all of our favourite summer foods again. watermelon, kiwi, berries, bean salads.. and i have a ton of salad recipes i want to try.

we are still talking about moving back east. maybe in five years or something. i dream very much of a cozy house all our own with a wide and spacious garden, but i yearn mostly for a place that isn't so stimulating. despite a deep love for thriving metropolises, i think truthfully i belong with peace and quiet. it doesn't help to have just finished watching anne of avonlea on pbs, prince edward island is so beautiful and catching sight of a long green row of white hydrangea bushes almost as tall as green gables itself. i wonder when and where it will be that my own hydrangeas will be as large.

i think this weekend has given me a little peace. i've settled on something for good. the only thing i would change about the last two days is that we would have gone to guitar center like i meant to. i wanted to play on the gibson es335 and the martin d28. i can't take them home but just playing them for a little while is so tremendous. i'm glad i can enjoy simple pleasures again.

last night i practised driving stick shift for the first time in oh, forever. i still remembered all the theory and only stalled once or twice. seth was patient and encouraging. i love it when he is my teacher. we went up and down the same streets behind our house over and over. i wished that it was a long endless stretch of road. i would have liked to switch into fifth gear and drive drive drive, nonstop until we arrived somewhere newborn, brand new.

lately i've been imagining a distant future in the green rurals of the midwest. how maybe every now and again i will think about the palm trees lined up everywhere around here. certain weather conditions remind me of other places - i anticipate someday, it will be a hot, dry heat like today's that takes me back to this place.

last night i dreamt i started working at a organic food co-op. another employee said, you seem very happy to be here. and i really was.

drive carefully, you've got my life with you.

happily, i was able to finish the pillowcases i started for my sister today without too much discomfort. the gardeners came last week and trimmed the large fig tree growing outside the window. now that i am here at daylight hours i can see it adds much more sunlight to the main room. it's very nice. i showed s. the book i read when we have big fights. needless to say, i am still on chapter 1.

from the things i say sometimes it seems like i'd like to be anyone or anything but me.

the humid weather outside brings back the flavour of summers in florida, funny feelings of charm mingled with desperation.

and then this song too, reminds me of driving and hot summer air. when the song breaks into crescendo i burst at the top of my lungs.

if i were a petal right now i'd have touches of orange, yellow, blue, pale violet, streaks of red, translucence curling on the edge.

and sometimes there are still times when i feel it's too much work to use my voice, to be anywhere but home. the last night in gloucester, full of melancholy i tried to encase myself in my bedroom, and only after an angry face did i reluctantly go into the living room.. they had arranged a surprise going away party for me.

i still miss that place all the time. even if i am compelled by an unknown force someday to travel to the smallest hole in the world and never come out, i will still always be filled with love for everything beautiful in this world, like friendships and faces, the physical act of laughing and the viscosity of memories.

now that i am growing up or something thereabouts, i find myself able to be open without establishing trust, able to talk to people despite knowing we'll never really create a bond. it helps that i have some things under my belt that probably allows me to find common ground with maybe 80% of the entire population of los angeles. 1. boys. 2. pets, 3. the lakers 4. texas hold'em.

but i still have the same problem i have always had. the inability to connect with more people. the most treasured thing in my life is friends i could never get tired of, could never run out of things to say with, would never need an invitation to stop by. the numbers have dwindled for a long time, and then so far away. i know it's not college anymore, and that it's partially the age we're at, when we're busy building careers and meeting lovers, and partially the persisting trend of what can you do for me?

how i miss that feeling of community, of nurturing and nourishing each other with food, games and laughter. we were made for that.

happiness, like a crisp new dress, crumpled accidentally.

i will always love something of this girl, this girl who does nothing for the future but enter to win trips to paris everyday.

sometimes, i think that memories & nostalgia are the only things that keep me above the surface.

i miss mark.

if i were an actress, i'd be out of commission once a month.

if i were a law student, i'd learn all of the different ways to put justice in the backseat.

if i were a haberdasher, i'd take my wares outdoors on the high street or the marketplace.

if i were a race car driver, i'd kiss my family before every time i got behind the wheel.

if i were an astronaut living on the moon, i'd miss home.

if i were in the NBA, i'd love every minute of it.

if i were someone speaking to me i'd say you're not trying hard enough.

if i were an iraqi civilian looking for missing relatives, i'd die inside.

if i were someone speaking to me i'd say life is too short to care about all of those other things.

( survey the survey )