Saturday, August 31, 2002

I woke up this morning and came downstairs in the midst of a flurry of voices and noises that are always there Saturday mornings. I sat on the couch for I don't know how long reading Spilling Open. My family went to friends' house to help them with something, but I didn't go because I hadn't been alone yet this morning. I changed my shirt in the hallway and made a sandwhich with my fingers. I'm feeling beautifully alive this morning.

Things I love about myself:

My stomach [body] though it's signifigantly fuller than my sister's ever will be.

my hair when I wake up; it really does look like a lion's mane, framing my face in a tangle of curls and waves. it reminds me of me as a little girl. i still want to be that little girl, sometimes. climbing as high as i dared in the trees and then just sitting and looking and wondering, eyes wide with wonder of the amazing green of early summer.

the feeling i get when i listen to a song i love passionately

my lips

my feet

my love of rolling down hills

my difference from everyone else in the world, and my similarities that make me feel

my hope

Today I am going to make cookies.


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