Friday, December 17, 2010

you bring me to sobriety the way you intoxicate me

i awoke this morning in a blanket of apathy. It's a new face of apathy however, because when I wake (earlier and earlier) it's sans alarm and with utmost enthusiasm. i'm brimming with unharnessed energy. i do not feel confined to my bed, rather compelled, totally moved to seize my days, to explore, travel, eat, sex, love, learn. i desire play. This Apathy i feel is not because nothing compels me, it's because the world compels me.. (but)my world awakens to morning glory on the other side of the atlantic.

weight.

wait.

...but you know, I hate dreamers and for now, this is what I sense myself. Wasting my days in a state of hope and fantasy rather than in action, paralleled and entangled action.

waiting, eager, &ready for these dreams of mine to come to fruition.

maythey,theymay.may.yay.
wait. weight.

Tuesday, December 7, 2010

Support for the United States National Women's Rowing Team

One of my closest gal-pals 2008 Olympian and 2012 hopeful, Megan Kalmoe speaks to how you can support the United States Women's National Rowing Team bring home more hardware at the London Olympics.

Monday, December 6, 2010

Vaffanculo

I have spent the past few months unexpectedly falling in love.

Hand picked by the illuminated leader who oversees the goings-ons in our lab, G came to the US in August as part of his thesis requirement for graduating from medical school (in Milan). Not love at first sight, I reckoned him arrogant while he unabashedly regarded me a puttana (probably true, though in my defense, I was only behaving in response to my initial foul impressions of him). The more time we spent working together however, the more I came privy to his captivating cleverness and quiet humility. I began to find him unequivocally, albeit unconventionally, graceful.

Our romance evolved slowly and organically, as late nights of planning experiments led to post-work chow. He made me laugh. A lot. I realized that I laughed more in 3 nights lingering over meals with him than I had in the past three years. His dark approach to making light of the imprudence of humanity, softened me.

G manages to perfectly puppeteer the delicate balance between scary cynicism and moronic manifestations of happiness. He takes my breath away every day and I predictably swoon admiring the way his Armani jacket sits over his shoulders, or the way he habitually twirls his mop of perfectly coiled tendrils while deep in thought. He cooks (amazingly well), he shares (emotional sentiments to family heirlooms), he cares (in principle and in practice). His gaze melts me. He doesn’t fancy himself passionate, but I reckon he is. Never before a romantic, he now proudly boasts the essence of romance in a way that renders me the envy of other women.

Each word that leaves his parted lips is always prudently arranged (and never for the sake of hearing his own voice). I have never smiled so much, and I have certainly never laughed so much. He listens and pays attention. He makes me cry. He’s complex, interesting, mysterious, cool, and still hotly affectionate. He calls me “stella” and I am certain he is the only one who could totally destroy me; I revel sensing myself amidst the most thrilling risk of my life.