Tuesday, December 09, 2003
Metaphors lived in the Space of an Hour
metaphors lived in the space of an hour, for things I can not write about here any other way:
I still have the habit of walking into the living room and putting things down where the couch used to be. Every time the object falls to the floor I say “oh… right.” And I wonder how long it will take me, not seeing it, not having it there, to stop acting like it is.
When I took off my brace last night I decided to check out my foot. I rubbed it gently, wiggled it a little. I started to flex it and was immediately stopped by the shock of pain I felt. The words that came were, “It really is that fucked up.” The way things moved inside felt all wrong and twisted. And I have to believe what I already know to be true; it will not be better for a while.
I start my new job January 5th. Very exciting!
Maria‘s hair is so cool and pretty.
No one is getting anything for Christmas from me, with the exception of a few people. doh! Form letters all around.
Me (4:01:45 PM): eek the ground just shook
Them (4:02:08 PM): yeah?
Me (4:02:18 PM): yeah everybody just prairie dogged
Me (4:02:23 PM): “did you feel that?”
Turns out we had ourselves a little 4.5
Monday, December 08, 2003
In General
One week from today will be my last day here at work. I have no idea how to describe how that feels.
Well this weekend was productive. My apartment is becoming empty though not empty enough. It occurred to me that I’m an idiot....in general, but also for planning on driving to my brother’s place with a moving van (just van size for what i’m keeping) when I don’t know, and have a feeling, that his roomate won’t be out of there soon enough. So now I’m thinking, pay through the nose for movers who’ll store the stuff for a while, and then move it. ugh.
Either way, I am moving to NY the weekend after Christmas. Crazy.
I have 5 non-work days total before the weekend I move where I am free to pack, to get stuff picked up, etc. All my spare time is being spent sorting through stuff, trying to decide what goes and stays. Overly sentimental, I have held on to so much over the years. I had as close as a panic attack as I get yesterday, and it took me a while to figure out why. I think it was from some pictures I’d looked through, from years ago. They’re going on the trash pile, finally.
I have hardly any time to see my friends who I’m missing already. Maybe it’s ok to not have an awkward “let’s hang out for the last time while I’m local” thing. Part of me doesn’t want to because I’m the type that cries or says stupid things. I should throw a big party this Saturday night, since I’ve been meaning to for forever. I don’t know though. Not like it would be quality time, more just a chance for me to look around a room and try to burn faces into my memory.
What should I do? If you had no time, how would you go about seeing the people you needed to see? How do I let them know that I don’t want to talk about myself and everything I have to do, and what’s going on? All I want is a good dose of them. I want to watch their face and listen to them speak and soak them all up. I want to be able to give them a hug without crying. I just want us to mean it when we say we’ll visit. I mean it.
I wish gaining a new life didn’t mean leaving the old.
If you haven’t seen it, go look at the moon tonight.
Friday, December 05, 2003
It's Friday. You Ain't Got No Job
Didn’t they already make this movie?
It’s Friday. My second to last Friday here in my current job. I am really going to miss how cush this place is. Our generous vacation time and made up holidays. Our post office, medical center, cafeteria and convienience store. Coming to work and walking through exhibits and galleries. Sigh. I will never have bosses and coworkers this great again, I’m 99% sure of it.
For a moment last night I felt like I didn’t even want to work in this field anymore. I don’t want to play.
I’ll not LIKE you anyMORE.
Ugh. I should have stayed in Real Estate. Except for my discomfort with selling things. This was my M.O. ...
We’re standing in the front yard.
lady: “Can you hear the trains from here?”
me: “Sometimes, if the wind is right. Don’t you like the sound of trains?”
The lady makes a face. I don’t like her anymore but must not let her know this.
Oh well. I have wanted to be so much. Like, I can or could once completely visualize doing the following: G.O. (work at Club Med as a silk painting teacher and windsurfing instructor), Writer of children’s books and smut novellas, Real Estate Agent, Editor, Librarian, Researcher, Surgeon, Sharp Shooter (special ops), Physicist, and Web Programmer.
I think I’d also like to be a ballerina and a cowgirl when I grow up.
Thursday, December 04, 2003
Slow Moving Charming People
Just when I thought life couldn’t be more surreal (i’m currently working out the details of if, when and for how much i’d start for this one company and when exactly i’d be driving to NYC with my remaining belongings in a van, and when exactly i’d be out of my place and it’s my job to find a new tentant and i’ve been spending time doing laundry and talking to boys. jeez, prioritize, mia!)
So I’m sailing down the sidewalk past ABC news on my crutches last night and Ted Koppel says to me, “You’re making pretty good time there!” and smiles in a very friendly way. I love when anchor people are cool. I say “thanks!”, smile in my most friendly, and keep moving.
Earlier that day, Lisa Ling is in the elevator with me and says, “well I hope you kicked some ass!” and was also very cool. Heh, she said ass.
Last night I watched all but the last hour of my class’s TKD exam and Rhonda gave me a big hug and told me her bruises had just faded, 3 weeks later, and told me she missed me. I miss her and that class a lot. Watching the stress and challenge of the exam, I was jealous, but not. It was a little sad, but I guess I’m doing other things now. Maybe it’s a gift to not have two days a night taken up when I have so much else to do.
I didn’t stay til the end because I was meeting bistro boy and other friends over at Five to hear Len’s other band play. So tired before I arrived, but once there, was glad to be there. Aint it always the way? A girl named (i think) Kathryn Zimmerman got up and I could tell she was nervous. But she sang like the singer of Girl From Ipanema. She loosened up to the warmly receptive crowd. Her voice and body flowed. Even the breathes she took were beautiful. It was an unexpected blend of sounds, and about 8 people on stage (hey! that’s my buddy AJ up there on bass! cool!).
The band, when they finally started over an hour late (Rastafarians, go figure) was great. It began as instrumental, then the woman, then the male singers. The two singers from Thievery Corporation are amazing in their sound and style. I think it was amusing (more like) enlightening for the boy to see my interactions with these others. We talked and people watched. I led him behind the stage through the grace of a friend and our little group enjoyed the privacy with a view of 18th St. and Connecticut and the sounds of the band in instrumental mode behind us.
We saw the secret things that go on before people go on stage, where one more of my deja vu dreams from a couple weeks ago came true. The singer men were saying, “We don’t have our mics” and there was a conversation, and the scenery, and actions of previously unrecognized people that suddenly all made sense. Good people, kind people. Slow moving charming people, savoring the little world made in those moments. I’m so tired, but I liked it. For some reason I look healthy like I got a lot of sleep last night.
Wednesday, December 03, 2003
La Principessa
Derek helped me out with getting all my zillions of pictures off the memory card and I am so thankful and happy. At first I made one giant photo album but it’s way too much.
here’s our Principessa Zöezhinna, because every child deserves 47 nicknames
In quasi-order, we’ve got the train ride on the Cresent.
I’ve made one of just Zöey in different outfits, because i’m a dork and i want to :]
And , the 1st Birthday party. Boykin spaniels in party hats are incredibly funny to me.
That’s probably plenty for now.
My solution to getting things done in a small amount of time has been to sleep less. I do not recommend that.
I’m playing with my Netflix cue. Anyone have recommendations?
Tonight I’m going to root for my peoples when they take their Taekwon Do exam. It’s really cool watching the more advanced people too. Breaking stuff. This one guy who’s going for black belt - the last exam where you have your choice of ways to break boards - he lept over five of us kneeling (curled up) to do a flying side kick. so cool
Then after that I’m going to catch a different band that Len plays in - with the two vocalists from Thievery Corporation - but don’t plan on staying out too late.
Man, it got COLD today. We might get snow. This, I’m sure, does not impress Megan. heh
Tuesday, December 02, 2003
Peak
A few weekends ago a knocking on the door woke me up. I got up, walked to the door and asked, “Are you knocking on my door?”
“Yes.” said clearly, I hear a faint laugh.
I peak through the hole. It’s two men I don’t know. One looks like David Bowie, the other is younger, both well dressed. I open the door, in my boxers and wife beater, because you know, I care.
“Um...”
They’re at the wrong door. They want the cool spanish couple next to me. I walk back to bed laughing.
Last night people came by to buy stuff. A person in my bldg had emailed me for the bistro set. There wasn’t a connection until I told him my apt number a moment before he came down.
We’ve sortof met, he says, that day they knocked on the wrong door. Ah. The younger one. hehehe. He’s sorry I’m moving, he says within about 4 minutes. He buys all the bistro stuff. He takes my plants too. And a book on indoor plants. He is very easy on the eyes. His apartment is awesome. My slate matches perfectly. There’s gorgeous pottery that he made and gobs of books on his shelves. I touch his bedspread because it’s so beautiful. He’s got my exact apt 4 floors above me. I tell him he’s so gay. He laughs, looks at me and says, “oh yeah, completely” with a face that says he doesn’t mean it in the slightest. How to describe the way his expression changed without using silly words? I give up. rawr.
Lovely eyes. Dangerous smile. He looks different from moment to moment and I keep watching. Such an expressive face, his words keeps making me laugh. He’s surpressing a mixed accent from southern states. In between trying to remember his name I’m thinking, rawr. I mostly listen because I can’t seem to remember the point of anything I bring up. Those thousand little things I mentioned yesterday? he’s got a few. He brought wine from his apartment, we drank that. We gabbed. I served whiskey in tiny sanrio glasses when he mentioned he liked Makers (it’s the only hard stuff i have in the house, i have such good luck).
When we heard the theme of M.A.S.H. come on the tv it was a shock so much time had passed. I’ve just spent 6 hours with someone who was a stranger. I start laughing inside and out.
Monday, December 01, 2003
Let Me Sum Up
So much, too much. I want to do my normal overly-long post but don’t have time.
Buttercup ees marry Humperdink in leetle less than half an hour!
Craig’s List r0x0rs: I posted an add yesterday and my email’s flooded with buyers. Helps to have a gallery for people to peep stuff.
My digital camera got bashed by an adorable one year old. She loved her Misfits t-shirt and the tiny little black boots I bought her. She would carry them around when she wasn’t wearing them. She’s just getting the hang of walking and they’re nice and sturdy. Little girls are really fun to dress up and I went a little nuts. Fortunately my sister in law is already down with this sort of thing. Next time I’m in Brooklyn I’m going back to Sam and Seb and buying her a bright pink tutu to wear with her black tshirt and black boots. yeah baby.
I love walking around with this little person holding my fingers. I love that she smiles and raises her arms whenever she sees me. I love when she tries to say my name. She’s got a great laugh and Tony is very good at making her laugh. Zoe sometimes does this thing where she’ll lean over and press her face into a stuffed animal, smiling with her eyes closed. Too fast to catch on camera, but really, a stunning thing to see. Amazingly, my bio-clock is NOT louder than it was before (i think). Goodness, my brother and his wife are exhausted and stressed. I have no illusions. I like being the aunt who spoils for now.
so, I’m trying different things to see if I can, hopefully, get those pictures off the memory card.
Tony and I took a sleeper car down on the train and it was so damned cool. It was like a fort, like being in Japan (not that i’d know). I have pix of that too (i hope!). I would really love to get a bigger version, the suite, and take the train all the way down to New Orleans with a mate-type-person.
hmm, so i guess i’m looking for a kind, older, rich (come on, money is the Grand Facilitator and while i’m fantasizing and oversimplifying...), tireless someone who I don’t scare, who likes trains, the misfits and wants little girls/boys to dress up. oh, and of course respects and adores me, heh, and about a thousand other pre-reqs. but not yet. “she pictures a soul with no leak at the seam” You out there, baby?
Saturday, November 22, 2003
Making Good
This week’s gonna be all about family. I’m packing now to go be with the paternal side of my family, and my mom called me while waiting at the airport down where she lives, as the maternal side of my family is gathering there.
I struck a deal with her.....
The only one in my family who knows this url is my brother, who’s in these pictures. He won’t visit this site, gives him the jibblies I think, cuz it’s personal. But I tell him just about everything so that’s funny. Guess he rather hear it straight from me. Fair enough.
My mom on the other hand, goes crazy not knowing, not being able to read this. Sometimes I think there’s nothing here to keep from her, then I remember she’ll have a nervous breakdown if she sees foul language or the slightest hint of ... well, anything. I’m not ready for all that. She’s jealous of momhow, I have awe for mihow and how her whole family seems very cool about the whole thing. My mom wants to post as mamasita. She’s precious but I won’t let her. My aunts understand this. She’s always chosen a sheltered life. She says one of the reasons she divorced my father is “because he said the eff word all the time”. I censor myself plenty as it is.
So the deal is, for whatever reason, my mom wants her picture up, because friends always say “your mom is a hottie” and I think, at 53, it makes her really happy. It just happens that last week she spent two days scanning in old slides from when we kids were small. In this one I think she’s about 28 and I’m 3. It’s crazy to think she is my present age, in this picture. A mom. We were at the pool all the time. I remember her teaching me to “breath under water” and in the winter, we ice skated.
Here’s my beautiful mom, of whom I am still overprotective.
I’m in a very nostalgic mood :]
