Excerpt from a letter

March 10, 2009

posted & written by caroline picard

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this morning i woke up early and ran around the park. it remains my favorite thing to do in new york city. so simple, but there it is. i have yet to encounter a better exercise. especially today—everything dewy and damp and springy. the rain came in spurts, reminding me again of spring’s adolescence. the way it seems so blustery, indecisive—a malcontent. one minute bright and shiny, the next cold and grim and writhing. and always with its great gales of wind—it reminds me, i suppose, of my own teenage years and how i longed so much to taste the whole world at once. my longing was constantly frustrated by my age–my inability to stay out at night, or drive, or buy alcohol.

once, on a dare, i dressed up as an old woman–i applied stage make-up adding lines to my face as i had done for the part of Marmee in the school production of Little Women. i looked terrible, terrible enough that the proprietor asked nothing of me, whether because he knew my game or bought it, i’ll never know. but i managed to secure a six pack–on the one hand triumphant, on the other  terrified by my prospective future. it was worth it because i made my best friend laugh–she who waited around the corner.

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