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scott just left. we made sure he was suited up in hip attire, as most of these people only know scott dressed constantly as a yoga geek. he wondered if that last silver Indian bracelet was too much. no way, i said. all men should wear more accessories, i insisted. besides, it brings out the Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom-ness about you. he believed me. even put on cologne. smiled and waved. And then left. I looked past our lit lanterns hanging from the porch and watched him go. and then turned back inside towards the dying christmas tree and the sound of the dryer. so, celeste, what now? you're tired. you just might be finally getting over this ear infection/sinus infection and cold. but you're pooped. and the moon blood is starting to rise in your veins. it's just a matter of days, if not hours. already your low abdomen is speaking to you, and your back is feeling creaky and old. back to the book, perhaps? no, i'm too tired to read. and i'm tired of reading about her fun adventures when i feel so rotten. a movie, then? nah, they're pointless for the most part. they leave me neither rested nor enriched. and then it occurs to me. i'll practice yoga nidra. why not use the time to really heal, rather than pine after a party i can't attend? besides, this time is precious. how many 30-year-olds spend their weekends flat on their yoga mats? and i won't be needing this sort of rest forever. enjoy it while you can. party [2007-01-06]
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