what becomes of dating myself...

i have to say that dating myself is going great.

friday nights are for eating nice: pita chips and chicken salad, topped off with a scrumptious bowl of Honey Bunches of Oats®.

after talking with a few dear friends on the cell,
my {bowl of goodness} and i settle at the kitchen table
to "get some light reading done."

or so i thought...

do not try to read the following book lightly.
i sat down with 1/3 to go, and finished it in what felt like minutes.

it reads like a screenplay, giving you everything you need to imagine the reality of what is going on.
almost painfully.

a roommate walked out the door the very moment i closed the book,
and at 9:00pm, with no one in my house, i wept.

{the vivid truths embedded in fiction have got me again.}

moving, powerful, painful, cathartic, spiritual, beautiful.

read it.



Khalad Hosseini's
The Kite Runner
















A favorite excerpt:

PANIC.
You open your mouth. Open it so wide your jaws creak. you order your lungs to draw air. NOW, you need air, need it NOW. But your airways ignore you. They collapse, tighten, squeeze, and suddenly you're breathing through a drinking straw. Your mouth closes and your lips purse and all you can manage is a strangled croak. Your hands wriggle and shake. Somewhere a dam has cracked open and a flood of cold sweat spills, drenches your body. You want to scream. You would if you could. But you have to breathe to scream.
Panic.

-pg. 121, The Kite Runner