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renditions of audrey

Sunday, November 8, 2015




Every morning at 8 30 am, I take Biba out for a walk and get takeout coffee in a cup the same colour of this dress. I could buy a coffee maker, but that would be a dedication to a substance I am trying to give up. And failing, forever failing to say no to a extra large latte. Anyway I like this quiet ritual of mine, especially on a Sunday when the streets are silent apart from the women stumbling down the sidewalks on their walks of shame. It is the weekends that truly make me feel old, passing up invitations for parties to stay home instead, lacing up my gym shoes when years ago, I would have been coating my eyes in mascara en route for cocktails. Some of my friends claim I act too old or too boring for my age, but these are people that didn’t see me in Paris circa 2012. I partied, oh how I partied.

There has been sufficient vin rouge and vodka to last a lifetime.  This morning, I spent a solid three hours on facetime with an old friend who was once a boyfriend, in many ways he was the love of my life and those times we shared in Paris were indeed the years of my life. That’s not to say I’m not thrilled to be alive now, this era is just a very different one from it’s Paris predecessor. And to have had that and to have this now is a refreshing development for my 2-0 decade. I have no hangovers, more muscles in my legs and a wealth of crazy times nestled in my bones, I see the girls stumbling home in heels early morning and it’s a glimpse of one of ghosts.

Oh how many ghosts I have and it’s always nostalgic to see them take form in other people, usually strangers, living an experience I have already lived. I was once the last girl to leave a party and now I am the girl that avoids parties. I was the girl always down to get into something crazy. Now, there is no crazy in me. I guess we all as women have been very different versions of ourselves. Do we ever decide on which version to settle into, commit like a mortgage for the soul until it’s officially ours? I am too young to know. But how funny to see all these stages of my life, all these renditions of Audrey that flow through me like a song. I will never be the same way I am today, I will always change. Perhaps not noticeably, but the nuances are dancing around in me and I can feel them. And how they dance, they foxtrot, shimmy, tripping lights all the way through my entire life. I will always change. I will never be what was I yesterday. But I’m okay in this constant state of array, my epitaph will surely be something along the lines of; faithfully  astray.


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