shoes.

Does every woman need a pair of ridiculous catwalk heels?
I may or may not have just bought these in nude.

B for Barlow.

There is am image of something I saw on the subway that will not leave my mind: An older woman, wearing a wig and a rosy complexion who stepped on the B train with her middle-aged daughter who possessed the same coloring. They had the same round lips and blue, deep-set eyes and carried shopping bags in their identical wirey fingers. They sat their bags down on the floor and spoke happily with their hands in close proximity to one another's faces the entire way home. It was love, pure and simple, and it filled the entire subway car.

It is an obvious fact that we cannot pick who we are born to, and who is born to those people along with us. But after many several ins and outs with family members throughout the span of my life, it has also become just as obvious a fact that we must love those who were given to us in the best way we can; regardless of religion, politics, sexual orientation; and even in the face of things they've done and said to directly offend us. Sometimes it feels outside the realm of possibility to do, depending on the circumstance, but I feel that makes it no less important.

I am so grateful for my present family. And I feel the loss of those I knew as family when I was married.

the girl who cried love.

I half-way expect people to roll their eyes when I tell them I'm dating someone new. I've now had five different boyfriends within the last nine months so I can't really blame them.

There are, of course, so many things to consider carefully trailing the wake of divorce. After falling so madly in love and living the most epic failure of my life as the result, it's become extremely difficult to trust my own instincts. I've attempted to date people outside of my comfort zone; people I've had little in common with, close friends, younger boys, older boys, in many shapes and heights and sizes. The more I date, the more I recognize my glaring inability to make a firm decision about anyone. And, in part, it's because I do genuinely like them all.

Objectivity is a difficult thing when it comes to people and the way I love them, so I've made special efforts to reason things out. I've made lists of relationship non-negotiables, posted blog entry after blog entry about what it is I want in a man just to make sure it's documented as a public reminder to myself, read self-help books, and discussed the topic so thoroughly with all of my most trusted confidants, but at the end of the day, I know I really am left to my own devices.

I went shopping with Josh (my newest boyfriend) last Friday in Soho. He needed some things for summer weather. Fridays are the busiest days for shopping here and we chose to patronize some of the most popular stores. I bought very little for myself and had plenty of time to observe his methods. Unaffected by the throngs of people, he'd approach the rack of something he thought he'd like and stand looking at it for about 10 seconds. If the item made the cut, he'd remove it from the hanger and sling it over his forearm. If not, he'd approach another rack. And it's not that he'd rather not take the time; Josh is, in fact, a man of discerning style.

When I informed our mutual friend about the formation of our relationship, this is the first thing she said (completely unprovoked): "Isn't it great to be dating someone who just knows what they want? I know that's just how he is."

My answer then and now: Yes. Very much so. And I hope to learn something from it.