1. A Jane Austen book. I've had my qualms with Jane Austen and I've also loved her like a hero. Thus, in these emotional times, having an Austen book is like curling up with a teddy bear and pulling a fluffy blanket over my head. I love her long sentences. From her I've learned the art of the comma.
This time, a hardback copy of Sense and Sensibility inexplicably came my way. It's never been one of my favorites and I haven't read it since high school. But I'm finding that on this reading I identify much more with the archetype of Restrained Elinor than the Passionate Marianne. Margaret, poor thing, is still an idiot. I don't think Jane was very fond of children.
2. A silly movie. Naomi happened to come across Stick It today. I love gymnastics and for a long moment in my adolescent my most fervent dream was to be a gymnast (I was impeded by a weird lack of the right kind of upper body strength and a leftover asymmetry in my legs from hip dysplasia. I think. It certainly wasn't from lack of practicing, because I had Debbie Gibson's Electric Youth and the soundtrack for the 1988 Olympics on constant play for my routines in the living room. I could bend my back like Kristie Phillips. No joke.) So I've been watching Stick It, and I love it. And it has absolutely no Associations.
3. Wine. Specifically, Hardy's Shiraz in a box. Because if you're gonna drink le crap, it should at least be environmentally friendly and cheap.
4. The ears of others. Rachael and Jul and Jo. Thank heaven for girlfriends. They've all heard my angst and joy during the (lovely, blissful, healing) eight months of this relationship, and when it ended, they all knew exactly why. So there was no explaining to do when I was laughing and crying at the same time. (To be honest, there is significantly more crying than laughing at this stage.)
5. A secure knowledge of how I am and what I can give. I still know that I am not cut out for long term monogamy. Or long term...anything. I am too distracted, too impulsive, and especially now after having been married, I have too many avenues to explore. I love him, I loved being with him, but I was asking him to put up with far too much of my shit. I can't help but give shit in this baggage strewn post-divorce landscape. A few years hence and things might have been different.