What it's been like

In a bizarre turn of events, I found myself in Virginia this week. Now that I’m back in Rabat, drinking mint tea in a café by myself, I can’t really wrap my head around the fact that I was taking a walk with my parents the night before last.

Maybe it’s because I brought some flannel back with me but it feels a little like Autumn here too. It’s got me feeling cozy and introspective.

While I was home for a few days, I had the interesting situation of processing out loud something I’m still in the process of doing. It was an exercise in finding out how I feel, hearing myself say things and realizing I meant them. Well, yes it IS going well. Yeah, I guess I DO like it. Now that you ask me, I AM glad I came here.

I think that’s why I’m having a hard time keeping up over here in the blogosphere. It’s not really in my nature to document something in the present. It seems tenuous, considering how moody I can be. And when I go to write, what comes out isn’t what I’m presently experiencing but what I’ve been thinking. Things totally (or seemingly) irrelevant to my surroundings: making French Onion soup in Nashville, my poetry professor in college who began every class by striking a gong, a weird memory I have of crying at October Sky as a kid and not knowing why.

But at the same time I know I should get over that because it’ll be over before I know it, appearing in odd-shaped, amorphous blurs when I go to write about some other future present.

So here’s a taste of what the past two months have been like: