September 8, 2003

• Sailing Solo
  
  Sometime in the middle of the summer of 2000, I was quite angry with the way my relationships had gone. Most of my friends were engaged and/or married, and were having children or had stable well-paying jobs. I was angry that, even though I had done everything right — no drugs, no alchohol, no teenage pregnancies — I was still stuck in the rut that is called loneliness. I know perhaps my cousins won’t appreciate this until they’re older, but those close friendships you cherish in high school and college. . . they dissipate with time, as people change. You may still send a card or two, or visit every now and then, but when babies start happening, and the job market changes, people get very busy, and the bond may be broken temporarily. Claire and I still talk on the phone and write to each other. But she is so different from me. (Remember Claire, Daniel? She was the one who laughed at all your weird jokes when you were little.)
  
  Anyway, sometime in the midst of the summer, quite pissed at all my so-called friends, I promised myself that if I couldn’t have a man, dammit, I wanted a boat.
  
  And sometime during that summer, I also told myself that one day I’d go sailing solo. And in the middle of the lake, I’d read Cosmopolitan while sucking down a Coke and blaring my favorite band at top volume.
  
  I did that yesterday.
  
  And now I can die happy.
  
  Thanks to Matt for bringing me the rudder that I forgot, AGAIN!
  
  

  
  Calm day, < 3 knots of wind
  Good day for reading Cosmo in your sailboat and testing perfume samplers!
  

  • 11:36 am
  • 3 Comments