"I’d sit cross-legged in the box, filtering the sand over and over again through an old spaghetti strainer, getting rid of the sticks and leaves that had fallen, until it was almost as fine as right after he poured the sand from the bag. That was perfect sand."
Sorry for the absence of posts. I'm at a mall, overhearing a teenage girl whine and complain to her parents that they won't buy her an iPhone. Yay parents for standing strong. She has enough money to buy herself a smartphone, just not a top of the line phone. She's pretty upset. Parents walked away, she's still pouting.
Anyway, things are good. Picked a date, picked a dress, picked a venue. Got a guy. A challenge, for me, is learning to think of the other person, his wants, his interests, as much as my own. I'm good at thinking about myself. Just like that annoying teenager sometimes.
Dad just came back. Explaining to her why she needs to wait; she's still upset but listening.
Lately, when I think about how little I've been writing, I feel sick. Like I'm not living up to my potential. Like I'm not figuring things out.
This week I plan to start a new routine--one that involves early mornings (when I'm most alert and when my head isn't clouded by unshelved books, late fees, and traffic jams).
But in the mean time, I'd like to share a couple things. Yesterday, I saw a beautiful movie shot with 70mm film. Samsara had no dialogue or discernible plot. Its filmmakers traveled to 25 countries over five years filming prisoners in the Philippines, dancers in Thailand, and tribesman and women in Namibia among scores of other people. Check out this preview:
Second, I've been closely following the presidential race. While I'm excited that Obama seems to be the frontrunner, I become more scared at the prospect of a Romney presidency. He hasn't stood up once to the zaniest wing of his party, and I can't imagine how he would govern. He acts like he would run head first into a war with Iran! His comments following the recent tragedy in Libya seem all the more flippant after reading about Obama's sober deliberations prior to American involvement in the conflict. To write this Vanity Fair piece, Michael Lewis spent six months with the president, gaining almost unfettered access to him, from Air Force One to the basketball court. It's worth reading from beginning to end,
