As a pig in shit.

Started my day with costa rican coffee and pancakes. Soon after begun rifling through the folds of the internet.. it's the new morning paper. I feel as though I'm so out of touch before I check my gmail account and update our facebook page. Is that sad? Or just normal by today's standards. Should we live by today's standards? Well here I go, nonetheless.

I'm ready for spring. The world is slowly catching up. There's a patch of grass starting to grow in the filthy, empty lot outside my kitchen window! And my "trees" are starting to bud in front of my building, under the BQE. City life. Can't let it get me down. Just when I'm ready for the springtime to bring the beauty back, I'll try not to focus on the dirt.

Oh, but I like the dirt. I suppose there are too many kinds to generalize in this way. I like the deep, dark, wet dirt that makes stuff grow. I like the kind of dirt that they have to censor on tv. I like the dirt that clings to your hands and under your fingernails after hard work. And the red dirt that will never be removed from my cowboy boots. Thank you, Sedona.

Yes, these things make me smile. Happy as a pig in shit, right? Like a catskill girl in the mud, like a bird in dirt. Smiles.