Plans…of the Grandiose Variety

Since the day my parents dragged me kicking and screaming out of India I’ve wanted to go back. I will never forget the feeling of the valium washing over me as the tears dried on my puffy cheeks and I watched the sun set over Hyderabad for the last time. That was 24 years ago. And my grand plans will put me back there – soon.  It’s a five-year plan.  Max.

I’ve always wanted to go back. But it’s become something more than want. It’s become need. I need to see it again. I need to smell the jasmine, hear the sounds of the city – the silence of night in the Palini Hills. To snap a eucy leaf in half and smell the sticky sap on my fingers. To hike and eat and watch the people. My life has been formed by these things, shaped by them. My memories are starting to fade & I need the color back – to drink it all in with my grown up eyes.

To sit in silence with a pencil and paper and write.

Oh my India.

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Adventures in Toe-Shoes

I think transitioning from being a person who does not run to a person who runs, and then to a person who runs in Vibrams should probably take more than one week. Falling flat on my face when my calves did not work in cooperation with their leggy counterparts today was…unpleasant.

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Borders, Redux.

Stopped in to Borders yesterday to check out the situation on their fixtures.

Everything must go! Nothing held back!

Of course, the first person I saw was my old employee.  ”Don’t judge me.” I said.

He just smiled, and helped me write-up my purchases.

I felt dirty, sort of.  But also happy.  Because now I have fancy new fixtures in the Museum store.  And they match the slat wall that was already there.

And I have a really cool spinner for my LGB collection.

So go ahead and judge me.  I’m trying not to care.

 

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Borders

Just home from a final, bittersweet trip to Borders. I wandered – touching books & delighting in  gift items.

I’ll miss you, mustache pencil box! Why oh why did you not have a companion iPhone case? I would have paid good money for one of those.

While hovering around the YA section (thinking about how my books will NEVER get the chance to be groped by a thirty-something like myself in a Borders store) I ran into a kid…more of a man really, who used to work for me. At a record shop.

A record shop that went out of business 5 years ago.

Talk about bad luck! Granted, he left the shop before I did & has been at Borders these 11 years. When he started at Borders the company paid for Adoption. They paid benefits for Life Partners. They carried import albums.

But not anymore.

Today I walked around my favorite local bookstore – yes, Borders is my local bookstore. I saw beloved books by wonderful authors. I even went so far as to approach a teenaged girl who had Mockingjay in her hands, forcing her to pick up a copy of Divergent by Veronica Roth…

“Trust me,” I said. “You want to read this book.”

An echo of the days when I could hand a teenaged boy a copy of Wilco’s Yankee Hotel Foxtrot, and say – “Trust me, this album will change your life.”

Apparently I’m a pusher.

What will be next? And where will my former employee end up? Will whatever job he lands in be the next industry to tank? Is this all his fault? And where can I go to impose my opinions about stuff?

If you see someone in the produce section of the grocery store approaching random shoppers…it’s probably me.

“Trust me, this is the best melon you will ever eat.”

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Checking Out

Technology is the devil!

This week technology trumps writing a synopsis.

I long for silence.

When the work day ends I am going to turn off my iphone, power down my ipad, deactivate my facebook account and take a hiatus from twitter.

If you need me I’ll be in the garden pulling weeds.

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