Remarkably, I have actual notes to refer to for today’s entry. This is remarkable because I often think to myself, ah, I am the type of person who takes care never to leave the house without pen and paper so that, when the mood strikes, I can take notes on things I want to write about later. And yet I rarely note anything aside from book and film recommendations. Today is different, and I like that.
Yesterday I took my seat on the bus and had only a few minutes alone before someone sat down next to me and shook hands with my nose. To clarify: I’m smelling more than I ever have, and noticing scents on the bus is kind of a game I like to play. Yesterday it was vanilla and peppermint, but sometimes it’s rubber and tonic or leather and cherry lollipops or bread and dog. Usually I can only make out two distinct scents per person. To cleanse my nose between them, I bury it in the nubby yarn of my scarf, where my sandalwood and rose scent lives.
Unlike today, I did not remember my umbrella, and paid for it in wet wool and cotton before ducking into Momi Toby’s for a tuna melt and quick chat with the extra-pleasant person who works there. Music I liked but didn’t recognize prompted another handshake, this time with my ears: hello, Ryan Donnelly.
And then there are these bizarre edges of emotion I don’t know how to deal with, like crying for the first time in front of my therapist, or irritating an acquaintance past the point of reason, or thrilling over the possibility of a visit from Lara next week, or reconnecting with an old friend via email. I like feeling, but sometimes it gets in the way of thinking, and vice-versa. It would be so handy to thinkfeel, feelthink; maybe that’s called be.
World of Warcraft is entertaining, but books are more so. I finished “Glass Soup” – less remarkable than “White Apples”, but still a book worth remarking about – and started Italo Calvino’s “If on a Winter’s Night a Traveler”. Bookmarks go in each of you so I can pick up where we left off after I reemerge from this new world.