leftunspoken's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- mixed metaphors and fences and picnics I had one of those weekends in which I was the full moon luring the tide. (The ones where everyone wants to be near you.) This always disturbs my sense of identity. I do such a pleasing job of setting up my little white picket boundaries, and straightening them when they are bumped, and rearranging them occasionally. Then on a pretty spring day (while I am pondering what flowers might look best in my hair), before I know what has happened, people are everywhere. They've jumped my fence and are milling about in my space. They maybe aren't milling about in a menacing fashion, but they are definitely milling, and their presence is unexpected and startling. So then what do you do? You are at first a little delighted at having company. Then you think "Oh, my!" and you wonder whom you should entertain first. You ponder who might be the most agreeable and you try to be cheerful and kind to everyone so as not to burn bridges that might lead to sweet places. So there you are being open to possibilities...when you start to feel a little overwhelmed. And you have the distinct feeling that you have been places you did not intend to visit, just because you got carried away by the crowd. So I'm confused. I had fun. I enjoyed the attention. But I'm not sure it was a good thing. And I'm almost certain Toto and I aren't in Kansas anymore. I am certain of this: I over-think things. I had a fun weekend in which friends and acquaintances paid me tons of attention and told me I was wonderful and beautiful and wanted to be very near me. Why knock it? They say the examined life is no picnic. I agree. And for once...I want the picnic. And I think I'd very much like purple pansies in my hair. 9:21 a.m. - March 03, 2003 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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