Classifieds:

Seeking Someone.
To fall in love with in autumn.
(For a single season of happiness)
For a love like heady perfume
and champagne bubbles.

Meet me in San Fransisco.
Outside the library, where brown and gold and red leaves crunch
On the pavement.
The smell of books read and loved.

To browse the shops for
Enormous hats with floppy brims
Button-up gloves and red parasols
Number two pencils and peppermint tea.

Take you out for dinner
On a park bench
With Jane Austen to chaperone
Eating milk chocolate crunch of Toblerone
Listen to Ani di Franco and Tori Amos

Read poetry in the evenings
In between fresh bread and chilly cold milk
Glam rock on the radio
Iris Murdoch on your lips.

Must understand sepia photographs are more beautiful than colour.

Kara's back.

This is like a sale at Bloomingdales, only better. If, of course, you can fathom such a thing.

There are some songs that just make me cry, hopelessly and silently, because music is like that on December afternoons. Like sticky keys on my typewriter or a helpless blot of ink on paper. Hot coffee and fresh bread for breakfast, the middle of a poem. Some lyrics just to hit me in the gut, in that deep, primal reaction. And I’m caught in the butterfly web, singing with Tori Amos and Ani diFranco, dancing alone to Guster in my room, and pretending I’m on Broadway with Les Miserables.

I always wanted to be Eponine, you know. Fantine is impossibly tragic and Cosette infuriatingly girlish-- but Eponine has the best damn song this side of Paris. She defined music for me, she and her:

in the rain
the pavement shines like silver
all the lights are misty in the river
in the darkness
the trees are full of starlight

I know people who judge character by playlists. What fools, I think-- and yet, not quite.

If I, by some miracle, defeat the Angel of the House, how can I face the waves?

(Don't worry if you don't understand this post in the least. By my calculations, only a small population of the world-- i.e. those bored enough to have perused Virginia Woolf's personal writings-- will be able to fathom the context of this question)