she sings in riddles...

It was that sort of day.

The kind of day you read about in stories. The kind of day on which things happen. Except, surprisingly, it was a perfectly average [and even quite mundane] day. Nothing had changed from the night before. Conditions had not improved, yet her spirits had.

Even though this day promised to be busy and mildly overwhelming, [as usual] she had a spring in her step. [whatever that means] Whatever this strange [and indiscribable] emotion was, it kept appearing as a wry half smile, unable to be supressed for any long period of time. There was no reason on which she could blame this sudden joy; it had simply appeared with the dawn. [which had arrived at least three hours too early for her taste, but shockingly, this too seemed only a slight matter] This feeling of [invincibility?] happiness at ‘just life’ was very unusual. [and fleeting, she knew]For once, however, she chose to enjoy the moment, and not dread the future absence of such blissful optimism.

you're the lucky one
so i've been told
free as the wind
blowing down the road

look at the world with smiling eyes
and laugh at the devil
as the train rolls by

Perhaps it was the weather; the sun was shining like a spotlight on a perfectly tinted deep blue backdrop, and it was surprisingly warm for November. It was the perfect temperature to wear a jacket and a scarf for the sake of fall fashion, and not necessarily for needed warmth. The breeze consistantly blew her dark brown bangs into her eyes. It was typically a mild annoyance, but today…today, it added to the simple pleasure of being alive.

Perhaps it was her choice of apparel; a sensible pair of brown oxfords, old jeans, a comfortable long-sleeved t-shirt [complimentary pink, naturally], a colorful scarf and a fleece jacket. The substitution of glasses for the usual contacts added the perfect touch. Why was such an ordinary outfit so perfectly satisfying?

It was the perfect type of day to be in love, yet surprisingly as perfectly suited for being completely and totally independent. [which she was] Usually such days demand someone with which to share them, but not this day. This day, the fat squirrels enjoying one last gorging before a long rest were more then enough company for her tastes.

She had eaten a dinner of milk and cookies like a true collegian. [but, being from the yuppie nw, it was molasses cookies and soymilk] The lack of access to consistently decent food did not even faze her today. The world was a beautiful place, turning on its axis in complete harmony. [at least in hillsdale]

What made today so special? Perhaps an outside observer could best answer the question that she could not.

It was the perfect day to spend an evening pretending to be a superior intellectual [hottie], studying late into the night at a coffee shop, enjoying Dante, a caramel latte, excellent music and the best of company.

It was Friday.