brother's better-late-than-never arrival.
into unexpected, great conversations on the bus.
-- corny and commercial though it is.
color red, it's my favorite.
rain -- before, during and after.
writers' group ( in SF...I really miss them, I vow to
hook up with some writers when I return to NY).
the subway, especially at night...best of all -- to nowhere.
women whose lives don't revolve around getting, keeping
or recovering from a man.
is fine, but there's so much more to life...like developing
an actual personality.
Conspiracy theories, the more intricate the better. Orgasmic
bliss may result if the theory is somehow able to link
multiple assassinations, aliens, the CIA and, as a super-dooper
bonus -- the World Health Organization.
Luther King's "I Have Dream Speech." It
was given on my birthday.
friends. You find the truest friends when truest to your
out men in the Craftsman section at Sears by telling them
that, no, I don't need help -- I can find a Phillips screwdriver
all by my widdle self. The icing on top is the scared
look on their face when they realize I know the name of
a tool as if to say, "What traitor gave this chick the
keys to the kingdom?!"
goes double at Radio Shack.
way my mind always surprises me with its twits [SIC] and
turns of new perceptions and ideas. [Like Freudian slips
so good, I gotta leave 'em be.]
biracial. Everything happens for a reason. It's been the
source of many lessons. When monoracial people tell me
how hard it must be or lay any of their stereotypes and
opinions (unfounded because they have no experience as
a biracial person) on me, I'm reminded of one of those
sappy, motivational posters. Don't pray for an easy life...pray
to be a strong person.
little ironies. The big ones, too.
music. Sometimes I hear a certain sound or phrase and
am aware that the author was, if only for a moment, touched
by the hand of God, as some people see it. I don't know
what I believe in, other than Truth.
myself when I write.
my fingers wandering about [my computer keyboard], finding
their natural rhythm. Closing my eyes and letting it flow
out of me, as if a song I know from memory.
lessons, especially the way they come just when you need
them most. Pure love. Acceptance is a prerequisite.