Simply Today

Archive for the ‘grass is always greener crap’ Category


Say I’d never met you, back six years ago

But by chance, something draws me to Vegas

And you and me [two strangers now] come to stand at the same bus stop.

In those moments on the sidewalk, you say, “Hello.” Thinking, “I must have seen you before.”

You wait, standing there with your lace-up hiking boots, in the middle of July, in the middle of Vegas

I say, “Hello.” Thinking, “I dreamt this once.”

I am still, and very conscious of the peeling sole on my left sandal.

You let me feel your angry scars, kiss them, then roll your plaid sleeve back down,

And stare deep enough into your eyes to see a childhood in Paris and the weight of expulsion from a foreign place

What I can’t learn from your eyes, you tell me with your soft crackling voice.

I learn in one day what I haven’t learned all these years.

Well, I’m not the only toast getting soggy in the pool anymore. The other lanes have opened, and I dare say I’ll see some hairless swimmers in just a tick. What the jeebers is she talking about? Just this:


That is right. I told four close girly toasts this past weekend, and will probably continue to share the news, however good or bad my ‘swimming’ is at this point. That is all for now.


P.S. And to completly confuse those who will read this post, I did some actual pool/hot tub time a few days ago and it was devine! I want moneys!

This morning* I’m feeling very burnt toasty, so a cup of mocha coffee was in order, and is now half had. Oh, right, the title of the post. No I’m not going on some exotic vacation, or having my appendix taken out, or even an eye exam. No, other toasts out there, I am talking about Valentine’s Day. Capitols necessary. Am I angry at the holiday? Not really…my friends and I have found fun ways to celebrate. We’ve made nice dinners in the past, bought cakes from a local bakery, and had cards for each other. And I can’t miss what I never had. Sure I dated, but somehow I never quite lined things up so that I had a boyfriend for my birthday or Valentine’s Day. “I’m a smart toast, I am.” (said in cockney accent) Moving on.

This past weekend I went to go see “He’s Just Not That Into You,” with my youngest sis (we did also play the game, which she won). Yes, it is a chick flick, I won’t argue that. But it was interesting because unlike a lot of chick flicks that leave me simply hopeful, or have the opposite effect, and leave me sad that I don’t have a boyfriend, this one got me thinking. I wouldn’t exactly call it a perfect guidebook to navigating girl-guy communication (like any movie could achieve that…not even a documentary, end stop!), but it did get me thinking about past, current and future crushes, and the ways I try to figure them out. And just when I was getting annoyed that Gigi (E-pit-o-me of tons of twentysomething girlys out there) was eating up all of Alex’s ‘behind the bar’ advice, she finally realizes he doesn’t have a clue! Sure, maybe he does understand guys better than she does, but she’s a lot closer to–once finding a good guy–knowing where to go from there. (No I’m not talking pillows, comforters, and sexy underwear, I’m actually talking about a successful relationship).  Gigi, I give you props for continually putting yourself out there, and wearing very adorable outfits while doing it. When I grow up, as I continue to grow up, I want to be a bit more like that, sans checking the dial tone every five minutes when I’m in my apartment.

And also, side note: It was kind of refreshing to, 1~ see Ben Affleck playing a romantic lead again (even if his and Aniston’s chemistry was way off, and even if I’d rather be ____ Matt Damon), and 2~ not be drooling over every single guy in a chick flick.

*I started this post on Monday I think…

Now I have to end this post with a lovely flourish…maybe tie some ribbon around it, spray it with perfume, and give it a lipstick kiss, because it took me like three sessions to finally finish this post (and also some time for hitting the backspace bar). I promise that the next post won’t be related to guys whatsoever.

Good day! Smack (wet kiss).



Sigh, my first blog entry*.

Maybe we’ll just leave at that. After all, (in triumphant, low, man voice), !MyBlog!*, is named “Simply Today,” emphasis on the simple.

So I just uncapped the pepper shaker of italics and dumped a lot in, deal.

Why are you prodding me for more? Can’t you see that I’m a procrastinating, perfectionist-ic English lit. degree piece of toast that can just as soon squeeze pear juice out of her big toe, than write more than your daily dose of e-mails. But here’s what makes my delayed arrival into blogingham great. I didn’t tell any of my friends that I’m finally starting a blog. In good time, in good time. Let me swim a few laps first before the guys who shave their heads and chests get into the pool.

Now about my blog. Stepping gingerly out of the silly section at the blog rental, and into the sappy (when it’s that time of the month) section, let me tell you a little bit about what I want this blog to be. When I come to write at, I want it to be a reminder (sure, for you too) that today no matter what today may be, is simply…today. It will not be tomorrow, and was not yesterday. So when I’m blubbering on my overstuffed, flour-stained loveseat about goodness knows what, then do not despair, it is only today. It’ll pass. If I (let’s just say), am on the back of a motorcycle, hugging a handsome man friend, driving into the heart of Seattle, taking ferries over to Bainbridge Island, and popping into French bakeries, or traipsing all around England with one of my best friends while she puts up with ridiculous me, then it is only today. Cherish it! And as is evident already, if this is somehow coming across as chicken soup for the _______, and you’re not having it, well I will explain that if my blog were a book, the family dog would have gotten at it at some point, it may have been tossed in a fountain, and sat on too many times to count. “Warts and all” comes to mind. So with that, I will abruptly end my first post. Whooosh.

*Well sort of. I was a guest blogger for a friend’s summer blog and I had a very short lived college blog. Yes, shorter than four years. Shorter than one year, actually.

*Henceforth, every time I write !MyBlog!, assume I am writing in a triumphant, low, man voice.

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