The Sound of Nothingness

I had one of those moments today.

Like when you want to go somewhere and you don't know where, when you want to see something but you don't know what, when there's something you want or you're looking for but you don't know what it is.

I'm talking about restlessness. Not the kind where you twiddle your thumbs and stand up, sit down, stand up, I'm talking about that restlessness that comes from being a teenager, that sense of restlessness.

I went on a bikeride and it started out normal, but then my mind started wandering and on my way back I realized I didn't want to go home yet, but I didn't know where I wanted to go or where I wanted to end up or any of it.

It made me miss Ithaca. Behind the college are a whole bunch of neat hiking trails. One in particular ends at the top of this hill with scraggly grass and trees and it's not the prettiest thing in the world, but I liked to go up there and lie down in the middle of my hike and just watch the sky.

I don't know. My mind kept wandering, though, and I went from Hansen park to Del Prado to the tennis park. I guess I just wanted somewhere to lie down and watch the sky. I ended up at Del Prado eventually and just lay back and watched the light fade.

The thing about stuff like this is that you don't usually find what you're looking for. Not in one fell swoop. You go to the place that you think you're likely to find whatever it is, but it's not ever there. I don't mean this in a cynical way. I mean that enlightenment or the self--stuff like that--it doesn't come to you in a flash, a big epiphany. You go to that place and you don't find what you're looking for, and you're okay with that, because you're a little bit different anyway.

I've always said you need to lose yourself before you can find yourself, anyway.

I don't really know where I was going with this.

You know, I've discovered that one of my favorite-favorite kinds of relationships is that between two good, adult male friends who live together but aren't lovers. Which is why I loved the episodes of House where Wilson moved in with House for a few eps. Something about that is just so unutterably adorable. Not that people in love aren't adorable. I dunno. I have a thing for that sort of friendship.

I also like it when I see people out walking and they're holding hands.

This just got really cheesy. Wasn't this post supposed to be all philisophical?

I realized today that I could feel the summer coming to an end. I haven't been able to feel that in awhile, not since elementary school.

Maybe that's all it is. Maybe it's just summer.

Cooking Is So Fun, Cooking Is So Fun...

...now it's time to take a break and see what we have done!

Jeezus, now the Chiyo-chan song is stuck in my head.

So I woke up, stood up and felt like I had an armadillo trying to claw its way out of my insides, ever the reminder that being female is not all kittens and birdsong. I almost passed out. Lay back down with the blessed hotpad for awhile, got up, ate breakfast, chose what to cook for dinner tonight and then went back to sleep. Until 5:30. And then cooked dinner.

I hate this.

I went to bed at four last night but Liz woke me up a half an hour later to be rescued from some party in San Ramon. She didn't have a car. Actually it was an experience just getting out of the driveway, because the SUV was behind the van and I had like six inches of space. Got out without incident though--I was proud of myself. Rescued Liz, gave her her present I got in Pittsburg and went home at 6 to sleep.

During that whole philosophy thing last night and while I was dying in bed this morning I did managed to think over some things concerning where Mot is going to go next. Which is good I suppose.

I should probably start thinking about the third chapter of the fic, too.

When I'm not so dead.