The best apple pie and other things

Tonight Dubi and I were going to see The Darjeeling Express and meet Jason Shwartzman. Apparently everybody in the world had the same idea and we weren’t able to get a seat. Instead he made an excellent suggestion. We should go have apple pie, the best apple pie in Chicago. Who does that? Who goes to a restaurant just for apple pie.

(For the record, I keep typing applie instead of apple and I kind of like it.)

McCormick & Schmick’s , the seafood place near Cru, has TO DIE FOR applie pie. I mean, oh my god, that pie is good. I did not know apple pie could be so amazing, but it was just perfect. It needs nothing, except maybe a hot cup of coffee and a second serving.

In other news, the bed I love. The bed the I sleep in when I go to Parsippany, New Jersey. It is for sale! I can buy the Sheraton Sweet Sleeper bed! I will probably buy it this winter, I need to pay off my computer first. But this bed? This bed will be mine before I turn 31!

In other, other news, you must read Eat, Pray, Love by Liz Gilbert if you haven’t read it. It was just what the doctor ordered, had I bothered to see a doctor about my mood. She spent a year traveling after a terrible depression–four months in Italy, four months in India, and four months in Indonesia. Eating pasta, praying at an Ashram, and loving in Bali.

So many paragraphs felt like they were ripped from my own journals and her story lifted me at a time when I needed to be lifted by a story. Perhaps I’ll try yoga, perhaps I’ll try meditation, and perhaps a fabulous vacation (after I buy my new fabulous bed).

And…

it’s funny how I’ll listen to strangers before I’ll listen to friends. Do we all do that or just me? When I met Jello Biafra, he said something to me that hit home. It felt like he was cutting through the veils and showing me part of my heart. Do I remember now what he said to me, not really. But he was a stranger and if HE could see whatever he saw in me, then what my friends had been saying must be true.

It happened again this week. Thanks stranger for helping me hear what my friends have been telling me. Serendipity strikes again, eh? The short story is that I’m feeling much better. A cloud lifted.

Chatting on the phone with a friend last night while I was at baggage claim he said, “After Halloween, before your retreat, we’ll get dinner. It’s been awhile.” In the cab on the way home, I realized that its been a year. Probably almost exactly a year since I sat in his car and told him how I really felt about him. Since he said, “Not no, but not yes and not maybe.”

A year.

My heart no longer plummets or soars when he calls, this seems to be a good thing. My mood is no longer dependent on a six word email in reply to a 784 word novella. I seem to be healing nicely from that bit of heartbreak. And from the other bit of heartbreak. I’ve glimpsed just how much I can love someone else and I’d like to be able to put that into practice on a daily basis.

Until I can, I’ll keep looking at half full glasses of water, silver linings around clouds, welcoming serendipity, and writing.

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