Dear Amy,
Some days the world is just perfect.  there is always that waking moment where unconsciously the simple life of worldly activity humanity binds itself to, our in-cognizant regulation of sleeping with waking life, where becoming awake isn't so bad; and we rise with no reluctance to leave behind the soft comforting jumble of sheets and pillows, nor that often insatiable desire to finish off the last dream the alarm delicately broke us from.  pulling on the jeans that feel like old friends with a gentle sigh of completion and peeking through the blinds to see the sun shine on freshly unearthed grass and swiftly surfacing flowers as I vigorously scrubbed my teeth - i knew it would be the kind of day i would want to write a cloying letter to a friend about and invoke all of Calliope's eloquence.  though it was at times uncomfortable it was hot like those very exciting first summer heat waves when you feel the sun baking off the asphalt after dark, reminding me of being called inside by my mom to watch Knight Rider and ****** She Wrote.  stepping outside i found everything to be going swimmingly as i went to my mom's (borrowed) car, even the parking space vultures that drive down albany's one way streets too fast dying for a place to park seemed less disgruntled at the shortage of spaces. i had an ineffable few minutes of joy when i was captivated by three young girls playing double dutch on the street; watching the beads in their hair bounce and the shrugging simplicity of missing a jump and the jump ropes going slack after a triumphant moment of chaos.  the exalting scent of charcoal barbecues filled the air and every stoop was an energetic symphony of grinning faces.  this afternoon as i wandered off the pathways of Washington park it seemed i caught a glimpse at least of everyone - a group of girls on a blanket with their Capri pants and tank tops rolled up as far as daring and fabric would allow soaking up the glorious sunshine and intensely talking about chris and jake's quirky concepts of romance as their radio belted out college rock songs...

I never finished this letter to Amy...I miss her every day