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10:18 a.m. - July 30, 2005
Quiet morning, the foot-traffic sparse below
Reading the Post on my tiny balcony in the early morning reminds me that a good life, a satisfying life, is not permanently elusive. To complete the image one must visualize the bottle of water by my right foot, the laptop perched on my left, the potted acacia palm in the far corner. Perhaps taking up coffee would summon Norman Rockwell to flesh out a satisfying, if not iconic, weekend morning.

I am feeling lonely, however. Coming home every night to a quiet apartment surrounded by the noise of restaurants, cafes, and bars up and down my street reminds me again that regardless of the spin I put on myself and what I want, I don't think I was made to be one of those for whom solitude is a refuge. To drive home after class and open the door, with a loaf of right-out-of-the-oven bread from the Italian restaurant two doors down, maybe some flowers from the shop two floors below me in my hands, and say guess what, I had a great class today. How was yours? isn't something I'd like or enjoy. I yearn for it. With romance or not, I yearn for interaction, to bandy ideas and days and reflections, to argue and laugh.

Again, calling Norman Rockwell.

It's just that damn, even God noticed it wasn't good for Adam to be alone. My Eve is in the shape of an iPod!


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