oh well, oh well.

And there was a time when all I wanted

was my ice cream colder and little cream soda.

Oh well, oh well.

Mmm... my mind is drifting tonight to a quaint little ice cream stand in New England and the delicious combination of sweet, native strawberry piled on top of fresh, creamy coconut. Yum.

august and everything after.

Summer in, summer out...

Alright, so maybe I'm jumping the gun a bit but I simply cannot believe how quickly this summer is flying by. It is mid-August already, only a few more weeks until school starts up again, though I will be on the other end of the grade book this year - that's right: I finally secured a teaching position for the fall!! I am very pleased to announce that I will be teaching American History at one of the most prestigious public high schools in New Jersey. I am absolutely thrilled, although this means the oncoming weeks will be a stress-fest, full of lesson planning and attempting to piece everything together before I find myself in front of a classroom.

The past two months have been a blur; graduation brought only transient relief, the subsequent weeks quickly filled with studying for certification exams, writing cover letters and applying for positions. Needless to say, I have been a wretched companion: constant complaining to the ones nearest to me and a complete lack of communication with those placing a close second, you included, love. At the risk of sounding redundant, I apologize for my long-standing delinquency in posting anything of substance. A summer meant for poetry and adventure was lost to paperwork and wasted hours of worry. I let the sour note I started on (read: Scandinavian excursion successfully undermined by pesky volcano) get the best of me. A year older and wiser (the latter is questionable) and I should have known better...

Oh well, I still have a few weeks left to redeem myself and send the summer off with a proper farewell. Any ideas? Sissy and I are debating a trip to Montreal, la ville aux cent clochers. We'll see. I have been itching to go somewhere new, particularly after the eruption in Iceland destroyed our hopes of making it over to the motherland - or, err, great-grandfatherland (Pappa Harald hailed from Sweden)... With my new academic responsibilities I have limited free time, but I am determined to make the best of it. I am especially excited for the much-needed paychecks that will find their way into my bank account once September arrives, and the countless possibilities that a pocket full of cash and a bit of ambition can afford you. If anyone wants to contribute to the latest to-do list, I am all ears. A penny for your thoughts :)

It is nice to be back, my dear. Let's not lose each other again.

I missed you.

-jl.

fais de beaux rêves

"If a little dreaming is dangerous, the cure for it is not to dream less but to dream more, to dream all the time. " - M. Proust

come sail away.

"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones that you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade wind in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." - Mark Twain

un moment de vérité (ma pétition).

i want you to love me.

i want you to beg for my kisses,

to long for my lips

even after i sip

the last few drops

of a burnt cup of coffee;

even after i wake up

on a lazy sunday morning

without having brushed my teeth

the night before;

even after i slurp a hot bowl

of soupe al'oignon gratinee;

even after garlic.

i want to keep you up at night

because you wish you could call me

to discuss that new book you read

that new photograph you took

that new restaurant you found

around the corner from your apartment.

i want to floor you,

knock you down,

with my thoughts on jung

and my citations of eliot,

with my smile;

a smile that draws you in

delights you

disarms you.

i want you to know,

by the look on my face,

by the furrows in my brow,

and the reflection in my eyes,

what i think

and feel,

what i need.

and i want you to give it to me.

but what i want,

more than anything,

is for you to exist;

not as a fanciful memory

or faraway stranger yet unfound,

but here

and now

with me.

is that so much to ask?

in the weeds