i have an interview at 1 tomorrow. the question is-- do i go in till 12 then leave then come back? or do i give myself the morning off and go in at 2ish? tough question.
this woman talks so quickly it's like she doesn't breathe ever.

on to something more interesting:

jeremy asked me for relationship advice last night. ME. he kills me, at one point he actually said, "i'm sorry you don't have to listen, i know this is boring."

boring? BORING?!

more like the greatest thing that's happened in a while. hes dating a total psycho who isn't even cute.
he actually said, "i am jealous of you."
anyone hear an "i win" blowing in the breeze?
but seriously, i am not airing his dirty laundry because i do care. no one deserves a psycho.

there are days i think i will miss island and days i think i will not. i hate when those days combine into one day. it's amazing what goes unsaid sometimes.

i thought of this poem today because i love the tone and mood. the mood more than anything. i'm obsessed.

There were never strawberries
like the ones we had
that sultry afternoon
sitting on the step
of the open french window
facing each other
your knees held in mine
the blue plates in our laps
the strawberries glistening
in the hot sunlight
we dipped them in sugar
looking at each other
not hurrying the feast
for one to come
the empty plates
laid on the stone together
with the two forks crossed
and I bent towards you
sweet in that air

in my arms
abandoned like a child
from your eager mouth
the taste of strawberries
in my memory
lean back again
let me love you

let the sun beat
on our forgetfulness
one hour of all
the heat intense
and summer lightning
on the Kilpatrick hills

let the storm wash the plates

-- Edwin Morgan