dear universe

once in a methodist church auditorium i saw a folk singer from northern minnesota; before one song she told a story about her heart and how she woke up one morning and realized she was ready and put a call out to the universe to find the right guy. and i thought, well that’s something, but you still live in northern minnesota, you write songs in your basement and tour with a dyke. and i believe in the universe but i also believe there are places in that universe like the still spots in rivers and if you put yourself in one it’s harder to move. for example, hypothetically, if you live in new york city, it’s harder for the universe to bring you a boy with a tent and a full-blown appreciation of the absurd.

once on a particularly good episode of this american life the narrator said: really, how many human stories are there? and i knew there was this one, the one where the girl realizes that when it turns out to be the boy next door all along it’s a mistake, unless the girl forgets why she moved out in the first place.

so here i am universe, the one with the green backpack, the one dancing a little bit in the bus station, the one with no complaints whatsoever if things continue exactly as they are. but if there happens to be someone out there who happens to be curious about what it means to be in bosnia, someone who reads and sings and laughs a lot, someone who has realized that bravery can be bluffed, then for the record i’ll be in dubrovnic, and i have extra cookies, and i’m flexible about what’s next.