believe it

So, oh ye of little faith, I'm blogging. Blogging blogging blogging.

Fact: It helps to have something to blog about. For the past I don't know how long, I've been composing posts in my head. Last night I was reciting something brilliant about how the entire world is pregnant (not in a Keatsian "season of mist and mellow fruitfulness" kind of way, but in a pregnant pregnant kind of way). It's all gone now--although the entire world is still pregnant.

What, then, should I blog about? The usual late night angst and anxiety isn't present, which makes little to no sense. I live for, thrive on, my late night angst and anxiety.

Yesterday, at Institute, we discussed talents and gifts, how we develop them, how we maintain them.

Thesis: I have a talent for being alone.

I'm sitting in my studio-ish apartment (we'll take the tour in the near future and you'll see why it isn't a true studio), quite satisfied with the little world I'm slowly creating for myself here. It might have something to do with the vintage Royal typewriter sitting on the desk I managed to reassemble (courtesy of my friend Sarah) or the Belle and Sebastian posters that arrived yesterday. But really, I'm just happy in my space. Happy. Not a word you often see on this blog.

Returning to the world-is-pregnant, I mentioned this to a friend last night. I hope she doesn't mind my repeating this, but her response was "I know. And I keep hoping you'll meet someone and get married and be pregnant too." My first thought was, Please no. Not right now. Future, yes, sure, bring on the offspring. But I'm good alone. I'm trying to understand this life that I somehow find myself living. It's not what I expected--it's nothing that I expected. But it's my life.

Cue Bon Jovi.

And guess what. I'll see you tomorrow.