tattoo on my soul

I don't have the energy to write a composed entry, so you get snippets and tangents tonight.

Bright spots of a Wednesday:

- Receiving a nice long letter from Grace. She lamented about the leek detoxification fast that my mother imposed and waxed rhapsodic about hearing Edward Albee speak at Davidson and the freedom to drive. I was reminded of that rush of independence that comes when you turn sixteen and I missed it.

- Lunching with J.Hecht and his freshly shaved head and mustard scarf. We talked about discerning meaning in poetry, the conflict between subject-speaker-author, and the redeeming change of heart. And M.I.A., of course.

- Sitting on a bench in the sun in the charming courtyard of the Chapel of the Cross, talking with Carmen.

- Picking up an armful of promising literature tonight after dinner: the latest edition of The Cellar Door (UNC's undergraduate literary magazine), All the Pretty Horses, The English Patient, and this week's New York Times Book Review. I read people's stories and poems in The Cellar Door and then I go look them up on Facebook and make swift and inaccurate judgments about them and wish they would let me be their friend.

- Getting winked at by a random guy sitting in Lenoir. I was feeling especially plain today but the wink made me feel a little less so. (Betsey and Emily are clucking their tongues at me... finding self-validation in all of the wrong places, I know!)

- The weather

- Having this verse ring in my head all day long: "... so that your faith might not rest on men's wisdom, but on God's power." I'm still trying to figure out what it means. But it averted me from a crisis of faith that occurred yesterday morning, so I'm clinging to it with great hope.

Currently
Reading: The English Patient (Michael Ontaadje), All the Pretty Horses (Cormac McCarthy), Reflections on the Psalms (C.S. Lewis)
Hearing: "Crosses," Jose Gonzalez
Drinking: OJ