Underground

Gloomy weather makes for gloomy dreams. 

I dreamt the other night that I was driving my Corolla through a city. Rain and fog obscured my surroundings, but I was headed somewhere in a hurry. It was early in the morning and except for me, the streets and sidewalks were empty. Finally I pulled off the road, parked my car, and walked across the street toward an old building. Through the fog, I could make out letters above its large, open entryway: Marylebone Station...

...Then I woke up. 

Projects

My bedroom looks like a ransacked flea market in an abandoned prison cell. I've moved boxes, books, and furniture around to the point I don't even like my own stuff anymore. Which is why some of it either went straight in the trash or up to Savers. 

Phases completed: Walls de-wallpapered and (disgusting) carpet torn out - except for one last patch. That doesn't sound like a lot, but it was. If you ever remove wallpaper in your own home, make sure you have patience to spare and help if you can find it. Moving on... Here are the many phases that remain: purchase laminate, commit to a shade of gray (not Christian Gray) for my walls, rip out baseboards, patch and paint walls, install new floor and baseboards. Oh, and choose new light fixtures... And paint furniture... And buy new hardware for furniture. Now that there's absolutely no going back, the "before" photos I took last week are looking pretty good.

Throughout this project - did I mention I'm remodeling my bedroom? - I've entertained myself by watching my sister's newly purchased Gilmore Girls DVDs. If you're out on the road, Feeling lonely and so co-old... It's a complete set. I'm halfway through season 3 (the Jess season!), so hopefully by the time Rory graduates from Yale and rejects Logan's marriage proposal to cover Obama's 2008 presidential campaign, I will have finished my ambitious project. 

3 1/2 seasons to go...

A Thought

At this moment I'm more sad than I have any right to be... Yesterday evening I came home and found my mom crying while watching the news. She told me Robin Williams had died and that it was a suspected suicide. 

I couldn't keep my tears from spilling over. 

This was not a close friend or a member of my family. This was a faraway stranger I've never been close to. But he was still a beloved figure of my childhood - a versatile actor and source of many "happy thoughts" with a multitude of voices and impressions; someone who almost felt like our "movie dad" as my siblings and I grew up watching his films. Many 90s kids probably feel the same way. But for all the joy he inspired in others with his warmth and manic sense of humor, it's heartbreaking that he could not realize lasting joy for himself. And that many will feel the absence of not only a talented entertainer, but of a husband, father, and friend. 

So yes, I cried for this stranger who I knew only for his wealth of movies and characters. Not just because he's gone, but because he felt he couldn't live out his own painful existence any longer. What a horrible, desperate, lonely feeling for anyone to endure. And many do...

I hope he's finally found peace. I'm just sorry there wasn't another way.

Read Me.