We are no good at not loving each other

I am not sure the coffee shop behind my apartment is a coffee shop. Well, just a coffee shop. Nightly deliveries from a huge truck. How much coffee do these people go through? If there's heroine in those grounds someday, I'm here to say I knew it first.

I think I want to start writing again. Like, creatively. I haven't for so long. Fell out of the habit? I am the same person under this shifting skin of experience and growth. I have the same thoughts. I forget what it's like to conduct them to the ground.

This is the first time in a long time I am in Maryland on a weekend and don't have work. Well, actually, I did tonight, but that's over. And now-- nothing! Nothing scheduled. Things loosely scheduled, but nothing scheduled. Oh glorious. And it's supposed to be glorious out. I'll search Goodwill for pretty glass to shatter to glue to canvas, I'll expirement with my crock pot, fish out the remains on my Halloween grass skirt (for Halloween 2007) from my trunk (poor car), I'll argue with health insurance and cable. And I'll sit in a bookstore. Maybe I'll wander downtown alone a bit. I've become quite horrible at being alone. It's a skill I think I must obtain once again.

Had my first really bad haircut ever on Wednesday. Ah vanity... I have it. Lots of it. I'm a female trying to "grow my hair out." When you do not listen to me, and chop a good deal of it off to fashion me into a 1996 Jennifer Aniston look-alike, I will go out to my car and cry. And cry the next day. And the next. And build up the courage to call and ask for someone to fix it and inform the receptionist in a tremulous voice that "I do not trust her. Please... someone else." Crying over hair? Oh my. I do have work to do.

Zumba= one of the best workout classes ever. Take sexy dance moves, throw it in with 50-year-old men, some pre-teen girls, and a mix of women in their 20's and 30's, and you get a lot of hopping, smiling, and laughing. Oh, and sweat. Lots of sweat. I love sweat. Makes me feel like I'm doing something. So does wiggling my hips in outrageous ways.

I kicked off my Angie-wandering-about weekend with a viewing of "The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants 2" with Katie. I was a girl throughout the movie, smiling like an idiot for the handsome man's line of "We are no good at not loving each other... " Oh swoon. I may sound mocking, but take me seriously, I was smiling. Broadly. Oh, to have that assurance. That backdrop. Those lines.

And.

I would like to lift my drooping hands and stengthen my weak knees (Hebrews 12:12).