weekend

it's beautiful day and the fog of humidity creates a layer of moisture on my brown skin. my head aches from too many gin and tonics. as i climb out of bed, i follow the trail that last night's outfit left behind on my floor all the way to the kitchen, to replenish my dehydrated body with glassfuls of ice water.

yesterday morning, i rode my bike to china town, evading the numerous joggers on the lakefront path. arriving hungry and sweaty, we sat at a communal table with unfamiliar faces and listened as they spoke an unfamiliar language. we ate dumplings and drank many cups of delicious brown tea before exploring the shops selling live fish, swords, rice cookers, and candies. riding back we talked about family and hope, gushed about travels and love, and new friendships, our voices often getting lost in the breeze.

when i got home, i took a nap and got ready for the night, which turned out to be equally memorable. celebrating a friend's birthday, i ate wonderful mexican food with a group of highly-entertaining people i barely knew. later, i danced all night in my yellow floral dress with a guy from out of town, who surprised me with his smooth dance moves and conversational spanish.

driving home at four a.m., the sensation of the day flew through my memories, the complex flavor of the steamed shrimp dumplings, the wind on my face as i rode home, the bass of the music pounding. i sorted and recollected through these moments all the way home, as i drove through the empty chicago streets feeling very much in love with my life. this is what weekends are supposed to be like. this is what i needed.