And I'm awfully glad my finger's resting gently on the masterfade

So I forgot to mention how Saturday we almost got into a really bad accident. The whole family was driving to Castlerock to do some outlet shopping when this car nearly barrels into us from the left side. The girl driving it overcorrected too far to the left then overcorrected too far to the right and barely missed us as she went through our lane, past it, and then into the grass/ditch off the side of the road which she kept moving through and then into another side road where luckily there was no traffic. It all happened so fast and I'm not exactly sure what John did or what all she did but no one was hurt. But it made me think. It's crazy how fast life can change. But also how, in the same amount of time, everything can stay the same. And boy am I glad for that.

Well I woke up today and the first thing I was aware of was a sharp pain in my calf. I ran my two miles all the same without much pain while the kids were swimming but as soon as I started walking the pain was back with a vengeance. I looked up on Runner's World and they say that the solution is a "thicker heal" and to "avoid walking barefoot". Yeah, well both of those solutions are not happening for this barefoot runner. I guess I still haven't built up the calf strength I need after all; I haven't been doing any long runs really but I'm running almost everyday whereas before I was alternating. Tomorrow may be a day for the bike. Which is fine. Because we just installed the entertainment system into the sports room. Boom bam.

Today I undertook thing one on my newly created "things I have never done alone" list. That would be eating at a restaurant solo. Now this is honestly something I'm almost positive I have never done. If I have I don't remember it so I don't count it. I don't count June 29, 2004 as I ordered from the McDo's on the Champs-Ellysée and realized that I understood every word the people in line behind me were saying. I have eaten alone many times in my life but that time, eating on a bench on that infamous promenade and taking in the last of the city, made a deep impression on me. But a bona fide sit down-and-wait-for-a-waiter-to-bring-you-your-food restaurant, now that is a horse of a different color.

So I throw on a jumper over jeans, put on a hat to cover my unwashed hair and put said hair into pigtails, taking off 5 years in less than 5 minutes; No way was I going out on the town without looking the part. I went to the nearest Indian restaurant I could find. It had good reviews but that was all I knew about it. I get there and the joint is pretty class, alright. Not five star or anything but wine glasses on tables kinda place.

The owner raised his eyebrow when I told him "Table for one, please". He then said he'd be happy to get me the beverage menu if I was old enough. It was a terrific start to the evening. I'm telling you, pigtails. They always do the trick. I honestly couldn't wipe the grin off my face the whole time. The best was when I was sitting there waiting for my food after having ordered. I had left my books and my itouch in my bag. At home when I eat all by myself I always am doing something else-reading, doing sudoku or googling. I was totally at a loss with what to do. So of course I resorted to playing with my hair and was at it when the waiter brought me my food and startled me.

I tried to sit there and bask in the present moment and all that pep-talk stuff but it was really hard living in the moment when I couldn't stop thinking about going home and writing/telling people about it. That wouldn't be the first time I've dealt with that conundrum and it surely won't be the last. Throughout the soirée I kept getting this goofy smile on my face and then I would imagine that the staff was wondering about the creeper in the corner who wouldn't stop smiling and it just made me smile more. Almost laugh, in fact. At the register I chatted with the owner. That's the nice thing about dining solo; you can take the time to stop and talk to people. "Come again," he said as I nodded my goodbye. And maybe I will the next time I decide to indulge in a $2o dinner for the sake of checking off my to-do list. It was delicious though. I probably should have mentioned that earlier.


I've been thinking a lot lately about my decision to come here. I mean, I totally don't regret it but I sometimes can't help but think of the "exotic" experiences I might have had had I gone somewhere more foreign. And it occurred to me that I am spending two and a 1/2 months of my life here and that I am done treating my time here like a countdown; like a bus stop and not like a destination. I mean, a new city is a new city and novelty can offer just as much as the foreign. So I decided to go out in the city I've been living in and finally make it a part of me.

Now I have a theory about claiming cities: a city isn't yours until you've walked it. Until you've gotten out of the car and heard its sounds, its conversations and felt the sidewalk under your feet. And then once you've walked it, it helps to write it; because so much of knowing is about not forgetting the small things. As a side note, I think that's why I love Europe, because you walk everywhere. I fell in love with Salt Lake when I came home from France in 2004 and made the effort to walk around downtown. And I'm grateful in a huge way that earlier this spring the van broke down in Moab and we were forced to walk around. Because it changed the town for me.

And this is the kind of thinking that resulted in my remaining evening destination being Manitou Springs. The kids have their guitar lessons here every week, it's like a little bit of Europe right here in Colorado. The with-it girl who cut my hair a month ago told me about this Maté café there where people hang out all night. She said there were a lot of hipsters and readers of books. So I thought I'd pack my laptop and books and hang out there all night and maybe even make it a weekly ritual for the weeks I have left. The place is open a happy 24 hours a day.

Well it's funny how we carry our perspectives with our expectations. Coming from a college town, I imagined tables and couches for studying and reading. What I found was a small, almost closet-like corner café with a few tables and a few tiny booths: a tourist joint. I knew I couldn't just sit down without ordering so I got myself a maté, burnt my tongue (what else) and looked around the entirety of the shop and realized that monopolizing the only remaining table would be unfair, plain and simple. Most of the clients of the café were sprawled out in the surrounding plaza and sitting on the walls of the garden beds or on the sidewalks. Me pulling out my laptop and writing about the books I've read was just not happening.

Maté in hand, I headed back to my car to lighten my load. As I turn past the café this kid holds up a sign. At first I thought it was one of those hitchhiker signs or bum signs of cardboard and sharpie marker and that he was asking for money. This is what the sign read: It's my birthday! Please gimme some lovin or at least some kisses. I smiled. I mean, I couldn't help it, could you? The kid started to look hopeful but I didn't slow down even though a part of me wanted to stop and chat. What can I say, it's that darn Jack Kerouac. But I gotta hand it to the kid. I mean, 'A' for effort and for utter lack of shame. Pretty much made my night.

I walked up and down the streets for about 20 minutes. It was dusk, my favorite time of day. I'd already walked these streets and taken pictures some 3 weeks back but then I was a tourist. And well, something was different this time around. For one there were guys playing guitars on the sidewalks every hundred yards or so. A lot of people with dreads. Barefoot and playing hacky sac. Smell of pot. Kids on the street and on the playground looking out of place but right at home.A little like the metros in Paris. And my apartment building in Rennes. Manitou Springs, in the summer, lives on its sidewalks and the threshold of shops.

I ended up at this bench:

where I sprawled out on my stomach propped up on my elbows for nearly 2 hours intermittently writing just for fun and then reading all while being serenaded by a guitar some 20 feet away. And since I am now reading Antoine St. Exupéry's "Vol de nuit", I am also intermittently looking up vocabulary words and writing them in my notebook. That's another thing on my to-do list: read a book in French this summer. I don't have much choice though, almost all my books in English have been read. Happy day.


Driving home to an awesome cd mix, the moon had this crazy golden to it. It looked like some huge ancient coin caught in the tree tops that you could hold in your hands if you stood on a chimney. Low, like a sun that is setting, it reminded me of Hawaii where I saw the moon stretch out over the ocean and its own reflection for the first time. And it was everything I hoped it would be. As I made my way up Cheyenne Mountain homeward bound, the moon seemed to rise with me. And by the time I reach the top it's hanging in the sky. I didn't know that the moon rose, like the sun. Or maybe it doesn't and it's just a trick of light, distance, and perception.

Either way, it's a nice end to a nice day. It was harder at first today, the whole no phone thing. And I almost caved and got onto facebook. But it got easier and in truth it's made me want to do something even more hard core. I'm really regretting not having been more diligent last year in France with my writing and blogging. My facebooking and late nite phone conversations were probably just as bad there as they are here. Sad.

My plans for this weekend are still up in the air. I have an entire Saturday to fill and I'm still not sure how. Also on my list of "things to-do by-my-self" is to go see a movie solo. I'm honestly considering going to see Eclipse. For the sheer sake of irony. Beautiful irony.

I will eventually get to those book quotes. In the meantime: Broadmoor Valley Park, you are mine. Manitou Spring, you too.

Ah, life. Welcome back. I've missed you.