Does anyone even read this anymore?

Hello - to those of you faithful readers - I am deeply ashamed at my complete negligence of this blog. I started this blog to keep me involved in my own writing. I started this blog to be a public proclamation of of my sincerity in pursuing my dreams. Somewhere along the way, the pursuit of my dreams has turned into long and draining work weeks followed by hedonistic weekends.

This past week however, I was good. I did yoga in the morning, ate healthy food and drank no alcohol (except one cosmo on Wednesday). And where does all that get me...happier! Inspired and expanded in my capabilities to function in my life.

The week coming Hugo and I are vacationing. We will go the beach and sleep in late and generally forget about our lives here in Atlanta for five full days. I will hug and squeeze my sweet little niece whom I haven't seen in what feels like a million years.

The brilliance? A decision to get away, an understanding that sometimes vacation really is the most important thing.

~How I Feel About Paris Today~

Dreams of September in Paris are quickly evaporating from the daily repertoire of my daydreams. Hell, what can I say... we don't have the money to go to Paris this year, at least not now. I still want it, I still need it, I still want to move to Paris and raise a family there too. None of that has changed. My stressful days are filled with petite hunches that I might just be on the right track to getting myself exactly where I want to be...Europe again. Paris, specifically.

Fatigue, Mediocrity and Depression

These are the moods I alternate between. Hence the no-writing. My life as late has been littered with all of the above three words. But who wants to hear about that? This is supposed to be about brilliant right? So I’ll just tell you about the bestest most brilliantest moments I can think of. Maybe it will convince you (me) that I am not really as miserable as I think I am. Here goes:

Weekend long out of town party that involved riveting conversation, lots of swimming and culminated in a magical tour of Savannah. The tour was characterized by the rambunctious and infectious laughter of the tour guide, who also happened to be the woman who opened her home and her life to me the entire two days before the tour. She was the German translator / teacher / mother of a good friend. The entire stay was wonderful and relaxing and I didn’t wake up in the middle of a stress dream about my job, in the middle of the night, on Sunday, for the first time in a very long time.

Before that I did another sort of out-of-towner, I spent Memorial day weekend visiting my kinfolk, immediate family and ancestors. I rode around in 4WD off-roading vehicles. I drank beer out of cans and blared my favorite songs from my pick-up truck pulled up to the 6 foot long B-B-Q pit. I sat on porches, took pictures and visited a graveyard that will be the eventual solace of my precious father. I learned of 600 unused acres sitting near-deserted in a dusty little town about 100 miles south of Atlanta. I learned that I might have more than just a pot to piss in. I learned that it’s okay even if I don’t and sometimes disputed land means broken hearts and it’s not my battle to fight. Not for him, not for me.

I have a plane ticket in my hand for this coming week, it’s business – but it’s far from here and that’s nice. I will keep you updated.

This is the only brilliance I have for now.