In the ever-fewer minutes I have until I'm not lucid enough to think of words I will make use of the ones I can lay my hands on to say that it took me over a day to find out that the Pope resigned. For some reason this was the moment when I ceased to be my regular, relatively unconnected self and an almost imperceptibly different self, one who thinks she should maybe have a Facebook again. The next threshold is the one between this self, who is terrified of Facebook and its ilk on a very visceral level but realizes it is useful in a lot of ways, and the one who isn't that worried about it.
I'm not sure what to think. I'm tempted to say that I wish I had well-considered reasons for the present state of affairs that drew equally on an abstract ideological perspective and the demands of living a healthy, beautiful, productive but still very driven-by-practicality daily life, you know, just in case, but I don't actually wish that. I think what I actually wish is that I had a very specific, eloquent glint in my eye, preferably my left eye, and when I looked at someone they would just see that glint and know, that's it. That's why she doesn't have a Facebook.
Or not, either one is fine. This isn't a great post. So here are three pictures from my healthy, beautiful, productive, still-more-glittering-adjectives daily life, just for you:
|Some poems I like, and a stack of books from when I was proving to someone that Slovenian exists.|
|This brick I somehow acquired and dressed up as myself on the last day of my Intensive Polish program. (This was several years ago. I do not look like this brick any more.)|
|Most of an unusually attractive breakfast I once ate.|