Thursday, February 02, 2006

She Just Smiled and Turned Away

I have this awful habit of carrying around these little unrepeatable moments and pulling them out, like old photographs, to mull over. I do this to make myself happy, but they usually make me sad. The first is that dawn in Rhode Island when I sat in a ballroom on the hard wooden floor and watched the sun rise over the Atlantic and the house was so quiet and the sun so bright that, for the longest time, I couldn't think of anything at all. I was completely quiet, too, which rarely happens. The second is my trip to the outer banks with Elias. It was cold and windy, but sunny, and he came over the top of a dune with his curly hair tangled in the wind and it looked like something timeless, like folks might go there right now and, if the circumstances are right, that moment would play out for them, too. The third is the time that my grandma and my cousin and I went to McDonald's for a girl's night out and, scandalously, we were going to order whatever we wanted. And my grandma let us order three large fries and we dumped them in the middle of the tray and shared them and vowed to never tell our parents that we'd only eaten fries. The forth is laying in my backyard with this Lithuanian guy who always smelled so warm and dark and good, just talking or staring up at the stars. We saw a satellite pass over head twice. He didn't fall in love with me, though I wished, twice, that he would. The fifth, of course, is when we girls went skinny-dipping together in the dark in the middle of nowhere. Reading back over this, I think I often feel out of place. Most of the time, I revel in being the girl like no other girl you know. And sometimes, I envy you your certainty.

7 Comments:

Blogger newscoma said...

I don't know why, or maybe it was your intention, but that was absolutely wonderful and it sort of made me choke up.
It is the small moments, those are the ones that define us as people.
I have a cold and feel melancholy and cranky, so this was what I needed at this very moment.
With that said, I love being a girl and for some reason, this post reminded me of that small important fact.
I know that sounds dopey, but I do.
A forty-year old girl, but what the hell.

2/02/2006 06:25:00 PM  
Blogger Captainwow said...

I loved this post. Great moments.

2/02/2006 09:03:00 PM  
Blogger Plimco said...

I remember finding you in the ballroom in the sun in the morning. You were sitting by those giant glass doors. A peaceful dollop. It felt as though I had walked in on something sacred.

And I remember floating next to you naked in the night and feeling our smiles dilute in the water.

2/03/2006 08:31:00 AM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

Plimco! You're right. I hadn't put that together, but 2/5 of my favorite mulling over memories directly concern you and your family and 1/5 are tangentially related.

No wonder I feel compelled to smooch you guys.

2/03/2006 08:33:00 AM  
Blogger Plimco said...

Is this where I reveal myself and my identity as the actual 1st fake name? Plimco = The Divine Ms. B. That wasn't so difficult. I don't think anyone really cares anyhow. Let's make out.

2/03/2006 08:47:00 AM  
Blogger Aunt B said...

Oh, shit, Plimco. I'm sorry. I got so excited about smooching you, I forgot to maintain your secret identity.

I wonder if this is a common problem for superheroes?

2/03/2006 08:56:00 AM  
Blogger Plimco said...

It's ok. Anyone who's been paying attention figured it out after the masturbation commentary. And it's just a secret identity's secret identity, so no matter. I know how to layer my costumes.

Now to think about what my super power would be...

2/03/2006 09:37:00 AM  

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