On one Saturday night, an overheard Girl Dinner for two, as revealed in three parts:
Haiku I: Vibe
“He’s okay, I guess.
I don’t think he and I vibe.
Can’t find My Person.”
= = =
Haiku II: Cancel
I might call, cancel?
“‘I’m not excited at all…
to meet you.’ Too harsh?”
= = =
Haiku III: Old
“Maybe I’ll meet him?
My Person. Later in life.
Like when I am thirty.”
Poet, writer, photographer and slightly distracted day-dreamer who muses on (gestures at everything) from the petty to the profound. On a semi-serious, fully earnest search for meaning in the mayhem. Perimenopausal, melanin-deprived, irony-enhanced recovering perfectionist Type A+ millennial woman. She balances the ever-continuing quest to Know Better/Do Better, with the distinct ego-death of parenting a smart, full-throated child who was raised to know the power of her voice. Mothering a teen means catching a side-eye in almost every interaction. Diana navigates the minutiae of everyday life through seeking the magical in the mundane. Follow along and laugh with her as the world flames out!
