the word of the day is "ruminate." WARNING: this post contains poetry

The blogger widget crashed my computer, and made it look like my last entry didn't post. But it looks like it did.

Before getting to today, and the poetry, I feel like I should backtrack a little.

Last night, I met a boy. Which isn't entirely unusual for me. What was unusual, however, is how our interactions unfolded. I went in with a perceived lack of chemistry hovering in the back of my mind, but remembered that expectations are, 99% of the time, precursors to disappointment. So I let things flow, and flow they did. Here's where the unusual begins: One minute, the TV's on, he's making a ton of phone calls, moving about a mile a minute, and I'm wondering how long it'll be before I start to take exception to it all. But, after a little while, we're sitting, listening to music, and talking. We talked for hours about everything and nothing. I was in awe that a connection was forming with such a relative stranger. All in all, it was nice. Nicer though that things didn't take that all-too-familiar turn to the purely physical.

While the compatibility of our lifestyles seems a little up in the air, I'm going to see him again. Nobody ever knows exactly what's going to happen to them, so why worry about details prematurely?

Tonight, I went to Denny's with Jinah. Just Jinah. It was unusual, as normally we're out in a whole huge crowd. After sitting and ruminating for a good bit of time, we both left feeling peaceful. It was nice, in a subtle sort of way.

Let it be noted that after my coffee binge last week, I seem to have developed a taste for it. As if smoking and constantly drinking soda weren't enough reasons to start carrying mints around.

When I got home I was in a tea and poetry mood, in keeping with the whole peaceful business. And now, for your reading pleasure, an ode to greasy-spoon diners.

low-rent, high class
or somewhere decidedly in between
that's where life is.
coffee, cigarette smoke, cooking oil
obscure differences normally
decided by thickness of wallet.

cacophony- is this the sound
of the space between your ears
or everyone talking at once-
or both?
loud answers to questions
you never knew you had
and loud questions
you might never want answered.
something will be brought to the table.
take it, leave it,
order something, put something out there-
or both.

this is where the philosophy happens, and
these are the philosophers.
dressed too nicely, or
sporting a misguided haircut
despite appearances everyone blends together.

history forgets most of the "comfortable"
grad students with all the answers,
and remembers most of the
"tortured" bums with all the questions, if sufficiently loud-mouthed.

there's no filet mignon here,
nor could most afford it if there were.
regardless of our lives,
this is where living happens.

Print that, find the nearest 24-hour diner, get there somehow, and do some ruminating of your own. (Not that anyone I know has ever had a problem finding a diner.)

(DB) out.