Las riendas

El problema ahorita no es él.
El problema hace mucho que no es él.

El problema ahorita soy yo.

And that's a very empowering realization...because it means it's all in my hands. The power to keep sinking, or the ability to crawl out of this deep trench.

"Your past is just a story. It doesn't define you. What defines YOU?"

It is time.

Una frase que alguien me dijo hace poco y que estoy segura que algunos otros han pensado, que yo misma he contemplado, sin embargo que se ha convertido en algo muy difícil de concretar. 

La hora de la poda es necesaria y no deberán limitarla el recuerdo de las flores y los frutos de antaño.

Ya es hora. Easier said than done.

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PD. Hoy es uno de esos días en que estás segura que morirás sola, joven, (gorda!), y de algún cáncer (piel, probablemente)...

Yesterday

Finding myself in one of those moods I hadn't been in in a long time...

While watching Julie and Julia I had a sudden yearning for a pen pal. I remembered when back in 2^nd grade our teacher somehow or other got us addresses of kids living on the other side of the country so we could write to them. I can't remember my pen pal's name, try as I might...I remember she lived in Wisconsin and that her favorite flowers were roses and peonies, and those silly things that 7-year-olds will write to each other about. Watching Julia and Avis's first encounter, after their very extensive written history and the sort of sisterhood that emanated from it, makes me wish for something of the sort.

I've undoubtedly developed a second permanent fine line under my eyes. But that's ok, some 5-year-olds have undereye lines as well, and after all, I can't look younger than they do.