Shooting star
February 20, 2001tonight i saw a shooting star. i was cruising down the 405 and watched it soar over city national bank and disappear over the hill. and then i blinked and the sky was black, again.
i didn’t make a wish, although i suppose i should have; there are more than enough things i could wish for right now but it just didn’t occur to me. instead, in that one shimmering star, i saw a glimmer of hope. just enough to make me realize that i would be okay.
it sounds silly, maybe, but i looked up at the vast dark sky and somehow everything all of a sudden made sense. like the stars fit snugly in their spots in the sky and the moon hung safely on the edge without falling. and every night it’s the same. i just don’t notice it. every morning the sun takes over and the clouds come out to play and the wind rearranges the canvas sky like a fickle artist. everything keeps going, whether i care to notice or not. i can try to hide — today i just wanted to call in sick and slide under my covers and stay in bed with my blinds tightly drawn — but the world will keep spinning and life will keep turning. and it’s okay.
so i might as well face the day, because i only get stronger and braver and wiser as the days go on. i only learn a little more with each trial i face. i only keep growing.
I'm Christine, and this is a slice of my life—a sweet, rich, wildly indulgent slice that would taste really good with a scoop of Breyers vanilla bean ice cream. Read more >>
I run a darling, friendly, little graphic design studio.
I look on the bright side.
I take photos. Lots of photos.
I wish on stars and on websites.
I built my first web site 7 years ago and got 15 seconds of fame. (It changed my life.)
I launched, then relaunched, an online magazine.
I admitted to several embarrassing crushes.
I consumed more bacon than any human should and lived to tell the tales.
