Just Remember that Powerful is the Woman in You...

...And stay true, now.

For a moment I felt so blissful. The snow had just started falling heavier than before, to where the sky was dotted in all directions with it. The thing I love to think about with snow is that every single snowflake is unique. The ones destroying themselves on my skull cap have never been seen before and will never be again. And they swirl around your head in every which way--the odd thing as a Southerner who is used to freaky rain is that at least while it's flying in every direction laterally is that at least it's all headed downward. The funny thing about snow is that once it becomes snow, it is not governed by the same laws of gravity that rain is. Those first flurries are beholden to no one and they will go any which way they feel they want to. You honestly feel you are walking in a snow-globe. The novelty of it makes me happy.

I walk in and see Sharon and give her a quick kiss and go to the restroom. I look in the mirror and snowflakes have caught on my eyelashes. I think that with them this might be the prettiest I have ever looked. I smile at myself and go back to meet Sharon and Jeremy. I think the bartender is cute and I met him the week before when I did this with Chris and Spring and Blythe. Being charming is something that is sometimes draining but it's something I know I'm good at. Maybe it's starting over that's draining. But I am happy and giddy and feeling somewhat whimsical about the evening.

Spring joins us. She's wearing one of those coats I wish I could pull off, but because of my height and naivete I know that if I ever found one, I'd wear it and look like a girl dressing up in Mommy's good clothes.

We talk. We laugh. Chris shows up. We head upstairs to play pool. I play terribly (again). This much would be certain. I played pretty well last time when I went out with Sharon and Jeremy, so it was time for me to fuck it all up. But I'm having more fun just being with them.

Dru leaves soon. It makes me sad because we just worked things out, but he's going about pursuing his goals and this tour is a step in the right direction for him and for that, I'm happy. Tonight is his going away party. I've already told him that I won't come. I can't. A friend had told me, while I was debating whether or not I should go, that it was an admirable trait that I would put my love for others beyond my own comfort, but when was I going to stop putting myself into potentially self-destructive situations? I had needed to believe that it was our situation that got in the way of anything real developing between me and He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named (wait, I fell for Voldemort? Of course that was going to end badly), but obviously that wasn't the problem at all. He just didn't want to be with me, and that's a hard pill for any girl to swallow.

I told Spring, "If I go, I'll end up windmilling you and running away, and there's going to be a blizzard tonight." Not the best circumstance to do so. She laughs, "Well, at least you realize that about yourself." Yeah, I do. I'm ridiculous and when that fact becomes blaringly obvious in a way I'm not in control of, then I just want to run away. As fast and as far as possible. It's tiring--not the running so much, as the explanations of why the next day, the reassurances that I will be okay. I never know how much of that is truth or lie. I have a feeling it's a bit of both. I'm doing better and worse than people know. But I am an expert of being one way while feeling another, and I don't really know how to stop it.

We play some more pool. It's time for us to go. They plan on heading over to Dru's party. This is where the joy starts to crumble around me. The snowflakes don't feel so free as invasive across my face, and I hate myself completely once again because my behavior has led to me having to part ways with my friends just so they won't have to take care of me, holding my hair back, tackling me in the street for the rest of the evening. I'm not going to Dru's more for their benefit than my own. And it sounds as shitty as it does self-involved.

I want to die. I want to melt. I hate what I have done to my life, the mess I've created with it. It sounds dramatic and I really only mean it in a narrow sense because at least I know at this point in my life in New York, I have real friends I know I can trust with real issues and it is a softer place to land. But I wished I hadn't been so haphazard to feel this icky feeling of separation now, parting ways with them because I was too stupid to know better, too impulsive. Should have just kept my legs closed. But I imagine there are many women in a far worse situation than me who have felt the same thing. All the same, I want to crawl into bed and hide. For a thousand years. Until I can wake up as someone different, or at least a freakin' butterfly.

We are walking and I am so goddamn sick of myself that I chuckle. I throw my purse to Sharon,

"Hold this."

"OK."

[I wonder if they were thinking, "Oh, shit, is she gonna throw herself in front of traffic?"]

I hope no matter how weird my life gets, how sad I get, or just any form of self-involved, that I can remember to do what I did then. The snow had, at this time, collected quite nicely on the ground. Fuck this mopey bullshit, I thought. Time to make a motherfucking snow angel. That's what it's there for. In all my gear, sans purse, I throw myself to the ground and leave my mark on the fresh snow. Ha. This sparks an interlude of snow-play that slaps me back into a more appreciative frame of mind. My ridiculous friends appreciate ridiculous me and we can be ridiculous together, scooting paths and swirls in the snow while it is still a novelty. In a few days, all this will turn to slush and ice, and we'll all almost die because we'll slip on it's slickness, but right now, it's our new toy. And you have to enjoy that moment while it lasts. With real friends, if you can.

I kiss everyone goodbye. Sharon tells me I can call her. I smile because I know that I can. I'm not going to, but I know I can. I come up from the subway and Billie decides to play Beth Hart's "Mama." I do a silly little dance to it that I've referenced before, but I treat it reverently on the way home. I am making my way home, the snow is viruently making its presence known to the world, and this woman's soul bleeds out through my headphones and I look around and smile.

I know my face
seems crazed and wild
but I got her eyes
a mama's child am I
And she comes to me
when there's nothing
I believe and holds me so high
yes I am free
saying why hold the anger
it won't let you fly
just remember
I'll remember
and I'll get by
Confused by my own illusions
she said that it's only my pride
And even the simplest solutions
still won't heal my mind
So I'll remember
I'll remember
And I'll get by

I come home and start this entry.

I spend the rest of my evening in my apartment alone, practicing guitar, playing music as loud as I can and creating the ULTIMATE MIX CD that I can't wait to finish and once I get the perfect title for it, I am giving it to all my girls. The CD even has a plot-line. God, I'm such a music nerd.

And oh yeah, here's what New York looks like, if you're wondering:



...The cars were just lumps in the snow...