Charming, but single

I am late posting this, but c’est la vie. I have nothing new to say, nothing that isn’t trite or repetitive. To the VT community and those who lost loved ones on Monday, my heart goes out to you and my prayers are yours.

The school has started the Hokie Spirit Memorial Fund. You can donate by clicking here and you can visit the April 16 Memorial site here.

If you know of any other reputable funds, crisis counseling services, etc, please leave them in the comments.

Face scrubbed clean of make-up, save the chapstick that promises to keep my lips soft and kissable – not that anyone’s been trying, mind you, but my kissably soft lips and I are very hopeful indeed that soon we’ll turn a corner. That soon we’ll be a hot commodity.

My hair tumbles down shoulders in waves, free from dehumidifying hair spray or straightening serum or smoothing crème or mousse. My flat iron and hair dryer take a break on Sundays, leaving my tangles to fend for themselves.

Flip flops, jeans and a flowing tunic. No necklaces, rings, earrings, bracelets.

On Sundays I am simple.

A family dinner here and there, some writing or reading or both, simple cooking in the evening. Maybe a movie. Always some coffee.

For some reason, I have been angry lately. Angry at passersby on the sidewalk. Angry at other cars on the Interstate. Angry at the guy in front of me in line at the coffee shop, who acts as if he’s never had the stuff before – Latte? Au lait? Americano? What is this water soaked in ground up beans of which you speak?

Yesterday as I was walking out of a store with my mother, I growled about a woman who I thought was honking her horn at me, and my mom said, “[Charming]! It is time that we get you home, where you don’t have to be around all of these people who make you so angry!” She was only half joking, teasingly pointing out that not everyone was out to get me.

I don’t want to be a bitter, angry grump, who stews in her apartment with her DVDs and sweatpants and wonders why things didn’t work out how she wanted them to. I find myself fixated on the little bad things about my life, which is really a quite lovely life when I strip away all of the daily distractions that are given more prominence than they deserve in the grand scheme of things. And I dwell on past heartaches and disappointments. And the negativity wraps around me and chokes off the flow of oxygen to my brain, leaving me disoriented and drained and unable to think clearly through this haze. I am tense and anxious about so many little things. So many little things that I let take over.

So on Sundays I am simple. And I hope for a brighter week.