Strange days, indeed. Snapshot of my life right now as a plate of french toast: soggy, undercooked, and yet burned all over. There's a basket of incredibly luscious strawberries to go on top, but they're in the refrigerator and nobody has time to go find them so they get shoved in the back, forgotten behind last week's leftover meatballs. I need a new recipie. There are forces at work in my life, and they all say that change is imminent. The last time I got this many prods from God/the universe, it was telling me that guy I thought I was getting engaged to wasn't all he was cracked up to be. And though it was painful and hurt like, oh, say, gnawing off your own leg to save yourself from the bear trap; it was the only way to get me pushed in the right direction (i.e., the direction of Paul, Sophie, normal relationships, etc.). And now I'm getting pushed toward big changes again. I'm not even sure what they are and what form they'll take, I just know they're coming for certain. This time I want to try to make friends with change, instead of trying to fight it off with a spatula.