I don't really know you, a friend said today.
Oh, everyone can read me – I have a hard time hiding my pleasure and displeasure with the everyday.
Yes, that you do disclose, but I don’t really know even a fraction of who you are.
Nonsense. I write a blog, I talk to friends about my days.
But you lived in communist Poland, you were a Fifth Avenue nanny, you were in Leningrad when it was Leningrad…We here ate twinkies for lunch and took trips to Florida in winter and had chrome on our cars and thought we were damn lucky to be American, you know, ‘cause we’re better than everyone else.
So I don’t really know you. I don’t know what it’s like to grow up with questions in your head, with storms, with drama. Will you talk more about it?
No, I am not good at that. There’s Ocean and there are the smiles and sadnesses of the everyday. There is no pleasure in unraveling spins and dramas from the past. No pleasure at all. And the snow today, it's so beautiful.
this morning, out my window
getting to class
finding a way to move along State Street
pedaling. because it's Madison.