Tracing planes

Today I have watched 10 episodes of worthless shows, consumed a 1/2 pint of ice cream, and downed three bowls of soup, half a loaf of bread, a glass of milk, and four Midol. And it's a good thing I didn't have my favorite chips, or else those woulda been toast. Enough said. Being a girl is not always grand.

I'm still itching to do something meaningful with my life. I snuck out by the pool tonight, after it was closed, and rolled up my pants, left my socks and converse in a pile, and stuck my feet in the jacuzzi. I laid back on the concrete and watched the stars (the few that I could see) and just tried to listen, and get a feel for where I live now, and how it speaks. And I watched these airplanes come in, one about every two minutes, tracing the same path across the sky. I wondered who the people were, and where they were going, and if any of them thought to look down on the lights and wonder the same thing.

I don't think I'll ever quit wondering, wandering, pondering. But that's not enough. I was watching a plane on a collision course with a star, and I thought--I want to be out and going and doing. It'll happen soon enough, I know. But the waiting is hard, once I've got myself in the mindset for change.

I feel safe out at the pool. Crazy fence is too high to jump easily, so it's like being locked into my own secure, watery world, even late at night (stop freaking out, mama). Besides, I always figure that if somebody with evil intentions ever has designs on my life, virtue, or heaven forbid, my debit card, I can always drown them in the pool.