Summertime

I am wearing a black skirt and a grey tank top.  It is summer.  My freckles are out and my hair is now long and wild.  I feel prettiest in the summer.  I have stumbled upon an event at the prayer house that I frequent.  Everyone is wearing white.  There is some sort of theme tonight with the teaching.  I sit on the side in my dark colors.  I feel like Mary Magdalene.  I always like her.  She was faithful in the end.  Confidante.

It is hot.  People are dancing and singing.  There is a guy in the corner that really knows how to wave a flag, it is bright, shiny red.  I ask my friend what it symbolizes.  He doesn't know.  I make up something in my head.  It's celebratory.  I grab the leaflet that I was given when I walked in the front door.  I use it as a fan.  All I can think about is getting into the night air.  The room is full of hipsters.  There is a guy in jean shorts and an expensive shirt.  He has blonde hair and wears a thin gold bandana thingy across his forehead.  He would be cute if he cut his hair and stopped trying so hard.  He has a wedding band on.  Next.

I wake up the next morning and wonder what my next chapter will be like.  I have learned to draw lines in the sand and sort of communicate what I want and need.  Go figure.  Don't know why I didn't do this sooner.  I have been such a scaredy cat for so long and I let everyone else have all the fun.  The good girl.  That was me.  Never wanting to ruffle anyone's feathers.  I realize now that is was better to be that than anything else because that was me, is me.  Now I can still be good along with all of  the other life ingredients that make it exciting.  I like accomplishing things.  This, I have been doing as of late.  Even if it is just maintaining some sort of stability and consistency.  I am not so easily thrown by the whirwind of drama.  I sway from side to side but I usually almost never end up on the floor anymore.  

I have a bunch of movies that I need to watch in the next month.  They just fell out of the sky courtesy of the DGA.  I'm a lucky girl sometimes.  I started watching Interview With A Vampire last night.  The opening scene was luscious and Brad Pitt was beautiful.  I remember when I worked at Chanel in New York and that movie had just come out.  We used to get all of the magazines delivered to the office.  BP was on the cover of Vanity Fair and the caption said "Golden Boy".  I kept it in the bottom drawer of my desk and I would look at it when my boss went to lunch.  Back then I had a shitty leftover college boyfriend that would not go away no matter how much I shooed him.  I often worked late and would come home to an empty apartment on the west side of the park.  It smelled of a fresh shower.  He made sure to bail for the local bar before I arrived.  I used to think that's how life was when you grew up.  Lackluster.  Then I decided I could change it.  I hopped a plane for Los Angeles in the middle of winter and never looked back.  I have met the "Golden Boy", he is still very handsome and has impeccable manners.  My palette is bright and vibrant.  Everywhere I turn I have a choice and this time I choose the best.