"The Ides of March are come..."

Somewhere between yesterday and tomorrow, I find myself drifting, floating, nonchalant. What is the meaning of my life?

Somewhere between yesterday and tomorrow, I contemplate, what will I be doing in two months? Where will I be? Where will I be going? Drifting, floating, nonchalant?

Somewhere between this morning and this evening, the ides of March came...but are not yet gone.

So I continue to drift, float...nonchalantly until I fall asleep.

Tomorrow is another day.

Mom's the Word

Oh my gosh I have a blog!

Today is my mother's birthday. She is 55. I am 26. It seems to me like she has always been the same age. I spoke to her...miles away, wished her happy birthday, the whole bit. How long am I going to live in this abnormality of a life? Where the ones who bore me only get to speak to me once a week? Where I can be anything from 'foreigner' to 'alien' because my passport is not blue. Where I have been in hot pursuit of happiness for over half a decade, but somehow am starting to get the feeling that I've been pursuing a happiness that isn't necessarily mine; leading me to the question...What/Where/Which/Who is my happiness? Should I be asking this question at my age? Or should I be "all grown up" by now, and know the answer?