hello. be back soon.
i’m in the midst of some big reflections on fear and fearlessness, on making things happen, on the value of some *selfish* time, and the practical care and feeding of my constant wanderlust. i’m thinking about excuses i make and the priorities i have and the way i want it all to go and what it will really take. i’m just about ready to really do it, because a clock is ticking and it’s not too late, but someday it will be. i’m thinking about a crazy rehearsal week and a hectic schedule, about sleeplessness and anxiety and wellbutrin and this happy happy face that greets me at the door, making my heart spill over. i’m thinking about chicken pot pies and pretty towels to hand-embroider, the sad crack in my favorite teapot, and if Haruki Murakami is this wonderful in English translation, what must it be like to read him in his native Japanese? i’m obsessing just a little bit about what Emma should wear to Disney World, and what Suri wore to Disney World, and what Shiloh wore to Lee’s Art Shop (and what they bought; i love Lee’s and always head straight for the little French notebooks), and whether or not Angelina is creeped out by that crazy octuplet-mom, and the amount of plastic surgery Robin McGraw has had, and hoping Dr. Phil tells her to give it a rest sooner than later…

so you see, i’m much too busy to type right now.