I'm back

in the city. That. Is odd.

I didn't quite things would actually work out the way they would. Not very used to things happening just right. But that's because there's something in common again: it was a series of random events that some how I managed to influence. Or perhaps worked out in spite of.

I got married. But again, there were random pieces that were falling into place and I was unaware of how they moved things. But I'm back in the City with laughter and not forgetting. Because I love her, love fighting and laughing and ("you're annoying")

("I hate you")

This is an announcement

("stop clambering over me")

("I feel like Mt Everest when you do that")

"I feel like someone from Mad Men, you know, throwing out lines."

"We both know out of the two us, I'm the one throwing lines"

Yes, sharing my life with her. And its good.

What else?

I'm in school and loving it like I never did before. Concerts in parks, visits to the Big Gay Ice Cream Truck, pot, work, music, the weather. It's good.

I don't feel like writing a post catching up my life. I was there.

It's not been easy. But it's been worth it. And I am happy. At least in the moments I'm not in the banal (I can hear her clearing up the sink. And no, we take turns. It's just that I wash the dishes as soon as I'm done. She waits until before bed.)

Or in the moments I worry about the future. But I do feel like writing again. Like running, it takes some effort. But its good.

There's a lot that is good. May be there always was, I was just too self-indulgent to notice it. I will continue to be self-indulgent. Just not all the time.

Also, I write in staccato because I feel like it. But then again, I just saw Mad Men. And what did Don do this time.

His secretary.

Zing