Many nights dwindle by

Magellan,

You jerk you’ve been in town and you haven’t tried to hang out!

Whateves.

Sure, sure. Whatever you say.

I’m fine, thanks for asking.

Midnight moon’s on the rise
My heavy head’s going light
So I’ll go home and sleep tonight

I have free time (ahem, including during days) until 8/7 so maybe you should reach out. Just saying.

With that out of the way, I have decided to surrender to the universe, officially. Yep. Not gonna bitch about wanting the ideal career or perfect partner. No whining about feeling a lack of direction. Zero complaints about never-ending waiting. At least for this week.

Ask me again in another.

Last night my good friend Anh showed up and cooked me a steak and you really can’t top a friend who just wants to hang out and feed you delicious red meat. Strangely, the moment I declared my intent to leave I was given 100 reasons to stay.

I’m walking tonight
About as far as I can go
I listen to the last song
By the windows

Sometimes, you just need to mix up the playlist. Or, in my case, dig out that mystery box from the back of your closet and find the *WAYYYYY* better box of CDs that survived your cross-continental move.

I have been jamming out to the Walkmen and it is the best for just about everything. I think that the National is real good September-March. Your favorite band (one of my tops) Lord Huron is the ideal soundtrack January-May. The Walkmen are perfect for June-September.

That’s all you need. Weather-based playlists.

And nearly every song by the Walkmen was written to be played in your car while you drive around on summer afternoons. They sound like the infinite possibilities at the beginning of summer break. Lazy Sunday afternoons (eating meat sandwiches) spent with a lover whom you just spent the morning tossing around the sheets. Walks around neighborhoods with gianormous waffle cones dripping down your fingers at sunset.

The Walkmen are that good.

Here’s to you and the stars above
The half moon and your pretty eyes
And here’s to you and the setting sun
The bar men and their sorry songs

And friends to show up at your door when you need them too. That’s what The Walkmen sound like.

It’s strange. I’ve definitely teetered between staying and going and now that it looks like I’m staying I am rightly at peace with that decision.

Everything in time. One perk of running is the sensation that time is suspended. I finally have time to enjoy my mini-retirement. Life is simple and excellent.

I have a confession, but I won’t bore you. I’ll hold it in the little hole in my heart where it waits to see what happens. As a human who is always at the mercy of unsolicited advice, I’m just going to keep doing what I love and trust that by doing that I will find the keys that bring me happiness.

This time though as Pete Krebs suggests: “Sometimes you have to wait, so patiently.” So that is what I’ll do.

I’ll be drunk before too long
And I’ll keep up in case I can talk
This really don’t say it all
There’s too much to enclose
These postcards from tiny islands
Mean more than you know

Even if you stay I’ll keep writing. I need these maybe more than you.

So here’s to you and the ground below
The grass bar and the empty sky

Yours,

N.

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