Leaving tomorrow for a cross-country road trip with Zohra, Nikki & Christiana.  You can follow our adventures here.  And you can hang out with us in New York, San Francisco or LA.  See ya.

For my days are consumed like smoke, and my bones are burned as an hearth.
My heart is smitten, and withered like grass; so that I forget to eat my bread.
By reason of the voice of my groaning my bones cleave to my skin.
I am like a pelican of the wilderness: I am like an owl of the desert.
I watch, and am as a sparrow alone upon the house top.
Mine enemies reproach me all the day; and they that are mad against me are sworn against me.
For I have eaten ashes like bread, and mingled my drink with weeping,
Because of thine indignation and thy wrath: for thou hast lifted me up, and cast me down.
My days are like a shadow that declineth; and I am withered like grass.

A ridiculous stroll down memory lane via Archive.org got me back inside my own head 10+ years ago.  It was completely surreal to read through the website I created in 1998.  I almost felt like I was looking at baby pictures of myself.  Sure, I know it’s me … but I feel so removed from that person, that time.  Memories of then are murky at best — if they even exist at all.  Reading the Spelling Problems semi-daily entries from 2001-2003 was even stranger though.  It was such a crazy time in my life — moving to New York, falling in love (with both the city and a man), moving to Berlin, falling out of love, then moving back to New York.  Never knowing that things would never really change, but that I would.

Remembering a song I listened to on repeat on my 21st birthday —

Now the winter’s growing close
The days are getting older
I can tell by your face
That your heart is getting colder

“I used to listen to that song when I was young. It’s funny to think of that. To think about listening to the same song now. I would’ve never known.”

I’m thinking about making an archive. It seems sad to let it all just slip away.

I used to think the lyrics were:

The sky is blue, my hands untied
A world that’s true through our clean eyes
Just look at you with burning lips
You’re living proof of my fingertips

It’s been about a thousand years, but every fall still reminds me of Berlin and every achingly cold day reminds me of that brief trip we took to Copenhagen.  We took the overnight bus and watched snow fall over the Baltic Sea.  When we got to Copenhagen, we had to wear almost every article of clothing we brought to keep out the chill.  How is it possible so much time has passed?  I swear, sometimes it feels like it was only yesterday.