Dangerous Compassions

through this year if it kills me

Today I made envelopes out of a roadside wildflowers calendar and a See’s catalog. That’s probably the most interesting thing I did. Erik and I ate pasta for dinner on the livingroom floor with a candle lit.

“Do you mind if I use Holy Mother’s candle?” he asked.

“Do you mind if she joins us for dinner?” I asked. It was whole wheat spaghetti with sundried tomato pesto and extra toasted pine nuts on top.

Then we tried this onion dip I made with plain yogurt instead of sour cream, and it was surprisingly good, with toasted whole wheat pita bread.

I packaged up some zines. I listened to a Smiths song I had never heard before, and one by Fake Problems, a band in Florida my friend MM likes. And a new-to-me Sufjan Stevens song about Jesus in the clouds, so beautiful and easy to love. Sufjan Stevens is healing kind of like Innocence Mission. I am the weirdest combination of rational and religious I ever saw.

Kitty had some petting frenzies today. He gives the irritated, insistent cry, “Myeh!” I ask him if he’s a good boy and tell him, “I know about you, I know about you.” He’s lucky he’s so good looking.

I napped two hours in the afternoon, so the insomnia is officially over. It’s getting below freezing here. Tomorrow morning I’m going to the doctor with my friend P.

By Laura-Marie

Good at listening to the noise until it makes sense.

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