love & country.
I officially live in Alexandria, Virginia now. Well, pending the signing of the lease, which will arrive Monday. This is my third 4th of July in our fair nation' capital, and the first that appears not to be a cloudy mess. I have about 3 different parties to bounce between, and around 9:00 I will find a rooftop somewhere (the Hill? Rosslyn?) for a spectacular panorama of fireworks along the horizon. America, America, rah rah rah.
Yesterday I walked around Old Town, which is quaint and yuppified and beautiful. Historic and expensive, peaceful and sweet. I found my new independent coffee place, only three blocks away - Misha's, which is semi-famous. I love coffee, I tell people. Have you tried Misha's, they say. And then I spent my Friday night in, watching The Office and catching up on the news. Thursday I went out, today I am going out, and yet forcing myself to stay in for once proved slightly painful. I'll get used to it - I'll have to. Going out is expensive and I am a broke thing.
There is one thing I have to say to get off my chest, even though I am running painfully late for coffee with a friend. It's this: I recently encouraged a boy then became bored the second I had his attention, and I realized that this has been my pattern for the last seven months, if not longer. When was the last time I was genuinely interested in a man, I wondered? When did I last feel pure glee at the thought of dating someone - instead of dread or apprehension or boredom? And I realize it was Jesse, the man I worked with last fall. The secret is that I still think about him constantly, I still hope somewhere in my risk-adverse heart that we will cross paths someday soon and then he will see me the way I always saw him. That he will finally make the move I've been waiting for for over half a year. While the months have dampened the intensity of my affection, I still have to admit that it is certainly still there, burning with noticable light. There is a good chance that part of me actually fell in love with him, genuinely loved him, and no amount of distance [I went to Europe, for goodness sake!] has changed that.
Or I could be completely delusional. Time, I suppose, will tell.
Yesterday I walked around Old Town, which is quaint and yuppified and beautiful. Historic and expensive, peaceful and sweet. I found my new independent coffee place, only three blocks away - Misha's, which is semi-famous. I love coffee, I tell people. Have you tried Misha's, they say. And then I spent my Friday night in, watching The Office and catching up on the news. Thursday I went out, today I am going out, and yet forcing myself to stay in for once proved slightly painful. I'll get used to it - I'll have to. Going out is expensive and I am a broke thing.
There is one thing I have to say to get off my chest, even though I am running painfully late for coffee with a friend. It's this: I recently encouraged a boy then became bored the second I had his attention, and I realized that this has been my pattern for the last seven months, if not longer. When was the last time I was genuinely interested in a man, I wondered? When did I last feel pure glee at the thought of dating someone - instead of dread or apprehension or boredom? And I realize it was Jesse, the man I worked with last fall. The secret is that I still think about him constantly, I still hope somewhere in my risk-adverse heart that we will cross paths someday soon and then he will see me the way I always saw him. That he will finally make the move I've been waiting for for over half a year. While the months have dampened the intensity of my affection, I still have to admit that it is certainly still there, burning with noticable light. There is a good chance that part of me actually fell in love with him, genuinely loved him, and no amount of distance [I went to Europe, for goodness sake!] has changed that.
Or I could be completely delusional. Time, I suppose, will tell.