Wednesday, December 13, 2006

"Half Acre" Hem

1.
She said, "You seem so calm."

But my loosening gums--my dental hygienist is convinced--are testaments of a tense life. She's noticed something about me, about these 20-somethings who drive themselves nuts trying to succeed. My parents generation, she said, lived a more balanced life, and subsequently did not suffer from such periodontal woes. They were less stressed; their teeth were squarely anchored.

"Is your job stressful?"
"I don't notice it."
"Do you sit in traffic?"
"I take the train. It's great."

We ruled out the usual suspects in our lineup. And all she could recommend was the incorporation of vitamin C pills in my regimen and perhaps an increased vigilance with my dark chocolate intake.

2.
I would like very much to make footsteps in snow. This is my New England fantasy. And I look up and breathe and think, "Of all the places I thought I'd be right now, why here? Why now?" I keep wanting you. There's nothing in the sky. I feel my lips are chapped. And to step on a wooden porch and kick the snow off my boots. And to come inside your small room that glows orange.