(for all cole's content please visit premiddleage.com)
I’m not sure if it is love leaning against a shiny new 1960’s mustang with horn-rimmed glasses and a man that adores you.
Perhaps it’s the stoic sort of love that takes sunglasses and shades not the sun but the looks staring at a tear-stained face.
Or a door that either lets someone in or lets someone walk out.
But I love love. I love the messiness of it. I love the childlike excitement of it. I love the 1960ness of it. I love the grit of it in a strong woman that wants to be weak and a weak man that wants to be strong.
I love love. I love what it smells like in the morning and in the afternoon when it waits upon a call or a visit or a letter. And then evening love that comes with a moon and maybe some stars and the promise of kisses and whispers and tomorrows and todays and maybe much laters.
I love love. I love how it begins and I love how it ends and that it can take my very breath away with a glance or a thought or a sound or a memory.
In these years, these in between years. These years of not being young and not being old I take love and hold it tight and say yes to it and not no to it and am awed that it still chases after me and dares me
to…
Valentines Day 2011
Monday, February 14, 2011
Monday, January 17, 2011
shoes in my fridge.
(for all Cole's content, please follow along at premiddleage.com now, muahh!)
I phoned Will from outside the car dealership.
Me: It’s a Sunday. Can you talk? Just for a minute.
Will: What happened?
Me: She was just sitting there with her extra large sandwich and her cigarettes and threw the car application at me. What is WRONG with people?
Will: What are you doing looking at cars? We just talked about this. Just last month we talked about how great you are doing, habibi.
And then the tears came.
Me: I went to the movies last night and saw Another Year and thought it was about an old couple in love but it was about their single lady friend who looks just wretched and wrinkled and old. And she doesn’t keep food in her fridge….JUST LIKE ME.
Will: Okay.
Me: And she didn’t have a caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar! JUST LIKE ME.
Will: Ahh.
Me: *tears and more tears and then sobs and more sobs* And I don’t want a car but I left the theatre and knew I had to fill up my fridge with food just so people would think I was normal cause doesn’t everyone have more than orange marmalade, soy, one egg and December milk in their fridge? And then I drove by all the closed dealerships looking for a car cause I need a car so people don’t think…so they don’t think…so they don’t think…
Will: So they don’t think you’re almost forty with no car and no food in your fridge, habibi?
Me: *tears*
Will: You are great. You are doing great. Remember how you told me movies aren’t real life. That real life is real life? Well, real life is real life, Nicolia. (He calls me Nicolia especially when he wants to make a financial point) Nicolia, you are the one I tell people about when I talk about someone growing up. You are paying your debt, you are living on “bread and salt”, you are being a church mouse and within a year you can go back to getting anything you want.
I almost made a 20K purchase because of a feeling I had in a movie. Wonder how often we buy on feeling. Homes, cars, clothes, electronics for you men folk. I walked away from the dealership to get sound financial advice from a friend and thankfully came to my senses. Well, then I got a grilled cheese. Cause that helps, too.
I won’t tell Will about the new navy suede pumps I bought yesterday. Or the black snake skin ones, either. They were on sale. Well, and then an extra 40% off and a coupon on top of that so practically free if you really think about it.
I might put them in my fridge.
Much love,
Cole
I phoned Will from outside the car dealership.
Me: It’s a Sunday. Can you talk? Just for a minute.
Will: What happened?
Me: She was just sitting there with her extra large sandwich and her cigarettes and threw the car application at me. What is WRONG with people?
Will: What are you doing looking at cars? We just talked about this. Just last month we talked about how great you are doing, habibi.
And then the tears came.
Me: I went to the movies last night and saw Another Year and thought it was about an old couple in love but it was about their single lady friend who looks just wretched and wrinkled and old. And she doesn’t keep food in her fridge….JUST LIKE ME.
Will: Okay.
Me: And she didn’t have a caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar! JUST LIKE ME.
Will: Ahh.
Me: *tears and more tears and then sobs and more sobs* And I don’t want a car but I left the theatre and knew I had to fill up my fridge with food just so people would think I was normal cause doesn’t everyone have more than orange marmalade, soy, one egg and December milk in their fridge? And then I drove by all the closed dealerships looking for a car cause I need a car so people don’t think…so they don’t think…so they don’t think…
Will: So they don’t think you’re almost forty with no car and no food in your fridge, habibi?
Me: *tears*
Will: You are great. You are doing great. Remember how you told me movies aren’t real life. That real life is real life? Well, real life is real life, Nicolia. (He calls me Nicolia especially when he wants to make a financial point) Nicolia, you are the one I tell people about when I talk about someone growing up. You are paying your debt, you are living on “bread and salt”, you are being a church mouse and within a year you can go back to getting anything you want.
I almost made a 20K purchase because of a feeling I had in a movie. Wonder how often we buy on feeling. Homes, cars, clothes, electronics for you men folk. I walked away from the dealership to get sound financial advice from a friend and thankfully came to my senses. Well, then I got a grilled cheese. Cause that helps, too.
I won’t tell Will about the new navy suede pumps I bought yesterday. Or the black snake skin ones, either. They were on sale. Well, and then an extra 40% off and a coupon on top of that so practically free if you really think about it.
I might put them in my fridge.
Much love,
Cole
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