Blurb
Back in Tokyo, the rain is pouring outside. I switch into my black sweatpants to make two trips with paper shopping bags of old magazines and GRE prep books, since there’s not much of a chance I’ll actually wake up to do it before 8 am (seeing how it’s past 3 already). My head is fuzzy {jet lag}; my feet are swollen and aching; and I’m lonely but tense, excited, waiting to make things happen - this means I’m listening to Evita. I wish there had been more beautiful women (whatever my type means) at the lesbian club in NYC last Saturday. I know I wasn’t shaking my booty in the most ideal way possible, but I looked scandalously delicious anyway. Too bad there isn’t any photographic evidence of that. Well, it’s been like that lately, perhaps in anticipation of summer, and of craziness: thrown into travel & moving, decisions, reunions with old friends & mentors, the future opening before my eyes, I’m forced into a determined sense of my own competence, strength, and beauty. There isn’t much time to cry over spilled milk or even more serious things. I meant to write something more descriptive, but now I’d rather do that later, although I don’t want to toss this out.
Originally published at enyi.org. You can comment here or there.