i like this.

thanks, ro.

[and she was also wearing capris]

while sitting in JFK international i was thinking about how new york is like the hub of the world, and henceforth JFK is like the hub of the hub. i was in a sea of people, thinking about how they were from all over the world, just temporarily paused in between one place and another. a girl walked by in a gap sweatshirt. she looked like every-girl-USA. but who was she? where was she from? where was she going? what's her story?

this same girl ended up sitting next to me on the plane. i didn't tell her that she had been randomly singled out in one of my previous thought patterns, nor did i ask her anything about herself. she watched TV all night and had clean finger nails and seemed simple. i didn't want to share this strange coincidence with her.

so i'm sharing it with you instead.

it's good to be home.

getting up early and liking it.

my body has been waking me up between six and seven every morning. there's no point in fighting it unless i get off on being defeated. it was frustrating for a while, but i'm learning to accept it.

this is what i saw this morning. a rainbow. i got excited like a child.

i'm going to make a great old lady. waking up early. making tea. reading on the front porch. going for a walk. i'm already there. it's not really about growing up, just growing into yourself. nothing's ever really changed; i'm just more comfortable now.

an ode to my old bike

today i sold the first bike i have ever owned in my adult life. it was a blue schwinn traveler that i bought off craigslist back in 2007. i paid way too much for it ($120) but i was so excited to have a bike that i didn't care. the people who sold it to me had toddlers and a garage full of bikes. the woman didn't even know which one i was coming to see.

one time brody and i were sitting on the east bank docks eating pita chips and talking and making out. when i walked back to my blue schwinn, someone had slashed the tires. it was one in the morning. brody walked me all the way home.

the nice guy at seven corner's cycles always fixed my flats. one time we talked about laughing cow cheese wedges. he was confusing them with babybel cheese balls. i had to tell him he was wrong. i kinda hate doing that. but i have to, if i know i'm right.

on a really, really hot day, bobbie sue, rikki and i rode up to the bluffs to have a picnic with food we bought from trader joe's. there was provolone cheese and bread and ritter sport. and some sort of flavorful condiment. we talked about boys and sat in the dirt. on the way home, we rode by the godfather van and took pictures.

i eventually wanted a new bike. the blue schwinn was too short. and heavy. and rickety. when liz and eric were in town i found another schwinn on craigslist. we walked in the chilly december air to some girl's apartment building near my neighborhood. she was selling her bike because she was moving to new york. i wanted to tell her it was probably a dumb idea, but had she changed her mind, i probably would not have gotten my new bike.

i tried to give gwen the schwinn, but she doesn't like riding bikes. yet. so it sat locked up on our porch all winter. i also tried to sell it to colleen, but she was comfortable with her cruiser. i finally put it up on craigslist yesterday and got way too many responses. the first person who called was ashley, who couldn't come see it until today at four. i wanted to have allegiance to her because she called first, but a bunch of people called this morning, offering to come at any time. i ended up selling it for $50 to erin from colorado who moved here to student teach. in her email she said, "it's meant to be!" i liked that. though when ashley called back, i felt bad. i felt like i was letting her down. i'm bad at craigslist.

sorry ashley. i'm sending positive vibes out to you on your bike search.

erin asked if i had any last words for my old bike. i just said "bye." i mean, is there really anything else to say?

i used to know someone who was notorious for referring to himself in the third person. perhaps you know him, or someone like him. anytime he did it, it drove me to anger. i perceived it as fairly egotistical and somewhat sad, actually. as if by doing so, he only understood himself as viewed through everyone else's eyes.

on the way to the mailbox this morning i heard a man refer to himself in the third person as "papa" three times in the company of his son. i guess this is normal with children, but it made me think of my old friend, and hence the above thoughts. but then i felt bad. because, really, don't we all just understand ourselves in terms of the confluence between the self and everything/everyone with which we interact? the idea of "candace" is most certainly a construct of everything i've ever seen and done. and a good amount of that is interactions with other people, who then both have an understanding of "candace" as well as an impact on said "candace." the use of the third person to refer to one's self in speech or writing can thereby be looked at as a sort of commentary on the lack of command one has in how the self is constructed, represented or received.

i still cannot condone my friend's usage of this method, though. only because i know he used it purposefully to annoy me, having admitted so after finding out i was irritated. i cannot credit him for any deeper motivation. although i wish i could.