Thursdays

Thursdays have been my favorite day of the week for a few years now. It's a dymamic duo of a relationship, Thursday and I. Once my adopted little sister Julia said, "It's a number '8' kind of day..." Dustin, Susie and I we're paiting pottery with her and it was a precious moment in time. I started to dechiper....what is a number 8 kind of day anyway? I loved the sheer oppenness with how Julia approaced the idea. I think we may have tired to dechiper the sentiment together, and even her own definition elluded her. In between neon polka dots and glitter glaze, we determined that the number 8 is one that keeps on going, being circular and loopy and balanced.

A number 8 day is the sort of day you don't want to end...and in essence, it never does. I always think of that sunny day with friends and brushes and swirling water in glass dishes. I wouldn't be suprised if most of my number 8 days have been Thursdays on the calendar. Dad informed me once I was born on a Thursday. I started to notice that certain happy, joyful and glorious moments have occured on that fourth day of the week. I note here there was also a time when "Smallville" and "Project Runway" appeared on the airwaves those evenings and many hours of watch parties, sentimental tears and laughs we're had.

Today is Thursday. 2009 is on its way out; I see it there like the enchanted rose in the Beast's tower. I want to rush to the petals strewn at it's base. there are so many tasks we fail to achieve in the chronological sense. Can I save the lost ones? Perhaps the softness can be restored to life. Perhaps it is best that we simply start fresh. Will I feel 201o begin this time, or will October hit me somwhere in dreamlike stride? Wake up, Conly. Today can be a number 8 day. Believe.

Have faith in today, when the sky is so perfectly clear and blue, except for the scatered tufts of cloud like ideas in the mist of thought. I watch the reflections of traffic and people against shinny windows on the West Side near Columbus Circle where Christmas is selling itself like sparklers in July. Tis the season for selling. Am I giving to others today, while riding the wave about to crash into 2010 with a defaning splash? Or will I mistake the sound for regret and fear, filling my ears so I don't have to hear with champange and resolutions and 'what's new this year?' So elated with me I forget to see me's all around, each in want of love and why and how....

Remembering dear friends, rosy cheeks, painted pots and falling petals. Today is Thursday and it's a new day, shaped like an 8 that keeps going and going. 2010, ready for you to begin...