the cheeky elitist

the beauty of age

In dreams, life, people watching, writing on July 19, 2011 at 8:35 am

these two ladies hobbled in with canes and perched themselves at the table closest the bar. 

the one with the hat pointed to a younger lady at the bar and asked, “oh, what’s she having?”

the bartender said, “she’s having the special.”
he began to detail the ingredients.
“you can stop at vodka. i only drink gin. i’m old.”
then she said, “but anyway, i’d like some gin.” she motioned toward her friend. “she’ll take her vodka.”
then these two marines walked by in full uniform, and the sassy one–the one with the hat–followed them out with her eyes. she turned back around, smiled, and faced the bartender.
“make it a double. but anyway…”

oh, how you’ve lost your way.

In writing on June 28, 2011 at 11:06 pm

in the midst of this torrid, rekindled affair with life i’m getting into, i remember to breathe.

this breath brings certainty for me, but along with my own stretching smile, there is a slight tinge of sadness.

the sadness, though not for me, momentarily cuts deep into my soul. for that brief second i feel the unaccepted lover and the weary soul in search of rest.

for a second, in my bones, i know the sorrow of a decades-old creature who let the bitterness take over and build a new world. the only thing left is the memory of dreams and a few days.

a tear comes to my eye for a love that was never. an arrangement circumstantial and poised–empty.

for a child that shouldn’t have been. for people who should have stopped. for the man who did stop, and it ended.

for the train that failed and the ocean that was hungry.

i let the hurt and fear and anger get close, and i look it in the eyes. but i don’t invite it in to share with me anymore.

“i’m too strong now,” i say. “oh, how you’ve lost your way.”

and i leave it behind.  and someone, somewhere feels their first bit of relief.

instead of not, they do. instead of lying, they tell the truth.  instead of everything, it’s nothing.

the difference is made, and the way is found. then there’s love again.

what flag do you fly?

In aspiring expat, city girl, dreams, london, magic, writing on May 17, 2011 at 9:58 am

change can truly be terrifying, yet it is really the only thing a person can depend on fully.

i suppose there are people out there who heartily accept the changing winds and turn it into solar power with the greatest of ease. i am not that person.

now, i have big dreams and deep passions, but when it comes to taking a leap and making a change, sometimes i struggle with letting go of things. i get caught up in realism and forget that sometimes change is fraught with fear, compromise, and risk.

most of you know of my adoration of london and all things british. for about five years i’ve poured over visa applications and read about the government. i’ve talked to immigration counsellors and followed the politics of the country closely.

i was less than pleased when david cameron stepped into office, as he’s a conservative and went to work quickly to limit (even more) immigration. now, realistically i understand this. personally, this is no good for my chances at a visa.

anyway, lately i’ve made a few strides toward my dream of expatriation, and it’s quite exciting. i’ll keep you posted on my journey to londontown.