I've been spending a lot of time with my brother and Rob. It's not that I haven't had the option of hanging out with anyone else, or even that I particularly want to hang out with both of them all of the time. It's that I need to hang out with them. They put me in a context in which I'm eternally comfortable, and at this moment, I don't need the cajoling of new ideas, different perspectives, or catalysts of evolution. I need time to mire and steep in resolutions.
To be continued...
Thursday, December 27, 2007
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Silver Linings
Today marks my parents' twenty-fifth wedding anniversary. Looking at them at the dinner table, it's hard to believe that the happy couple feeding each other cake has had run-ins with the law, adulterous affairs, bastard children, physical confrontations, emotional hang-ups, etc.
But here they are, twenty-five years later, after promising "till death do us part." There have been so many doubts in between day one and today, but looking at them, it's very clear that this is the life they want. I don't know if it was ever possible that they be better people.
But here they are, twenty-five years later, after promising "till death do us part." There have been so many doubts in between day one and today, but looking at them, it's very clear that this is the life they want. I don't know if it was ever possible that they be better people.
I've put on my rose-colored glasses...
... but looking at Rob still makes me blue. Is it possible that he was always blue, and I just temporarily saw him in the hue that I expected to see? Or are my glasses broken, and I'm looking at him from behind a crack in the pigment?
Saturday, December 22, 2007
On Solid Ice
Yesterday, IF woke me up at 8 a.m. with a phone call.
"Yeah?" I said, groggy and worried that there was an emergency. "What's up?"
"You sleeping?"
"Uh-yeah," I said, a bit incredulous.
"I thought you were awake."
I blinked a little bit, and squinted at the clock. "Why did you think I was awake?"
"Cuz you posted a blog at five in the morning."
I couldn't help but laugh. "What are you doing reading my blog at five in the morning?!"
"I can't sleep," he said, wistfully. "I got things on my mind."
So we talked for a little bit about the things on IF's mind: his girlfriend's Christmas present, his lack of a job, his need to "grow up." Honestly, at that hour, after having had only two hours of sleep, he did all the talking. I barely stayed awake.
Even though I was due in Chinatown for an 11:15 brunch, and I still hadn't showered, I decided to sleep for a couple of minutes - and woke up at 10:30. DC had called me while I was asleep. So had Rob. I woke up with a jolt, put on whatever was on the floor, brushed my teeth, tied my hair back, and ran out of the house. When I got to the train platform, I called Rob to see if he'd waken up on time for his final; thankfully, he had. I told him to call me when his exam was over. The next time the train was above ground, I called DC and talked about her "chocolate wonder boyfriend."
The brunch was almost depressing. A bunch of the past and present staff writers for the Kingsman had gathered with the paper's two professorial advisors. The former editors talked about their present journalistic ventures, and I just listened and ate my food. Talking with everyone reaffirmed my idea that I had been on track to something real and definite. If I'd have kept on writing for different publications and doing literary internships, I could've definitely landed a job in publishing or journalism; maybe there's still a chance, if I decide to fall back on my experiences - but I'm doubtful that'll come to pass.
Even though I'm pretty certain where my future lies, I like to see what could've been. It's always bittersweet to see the remants of a future that never was: like seeing a former lover, it's useless and natural to imagine what-if scenarios, even if you were the one who decided to walk away.
So LA and AS and SH talked about the ups and downs of journalism and looking for a job in the field, and Profs. M & M offered guidance and support. I ate my beef chow mein and drank my tea earnestly. For most of our 10+ party, there wasn't much to talk about but office gossip, i.e., who'd slept with whom, who had cursed out a professor, etc. It was amusing, but not substantial. I was thankful that the food was cheap.
The main reason I showed up was to see AS. AS is one of these genuinely good, talented, supportive, self-depracating people who doesn't realize just how wonderful and beautiful and amazing they are. She's moved to PA with her boyfriend, so I don't see her as often as I'd like, and every time I say I'll call her (there have only been two times), I end up sexing it up till I'm too tired to move, and don't make it to the phone.
So brunch went well and I caught up with AS. Then I called AJ and wandered the city. I walked from Chinatown to 23rd St and 8th Ave, and on each block at least five guys tried to holla at me. Now, I gotta say, I was dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, my black leather boots, and my black leather jacket. There mighta been a bunch of booty in my jeans, but not a bit of cleavage, and no joke, my make-up was done straight-up haphazardly that morning and the beginning of a pimple was apparent above my upper lip - so I didn't see what the big deal was. At first I thought maybe it was a fluke; all girls have their days when men everywhere can't seem to get enough of them. But even after I made my way out of Chinatown, guys were still ogling me. At that point, just for fun, I started keeping score. I stopped at twenty-six. Twenty-mother-fucking-six. Now, don't get me wrong, cuz I think I'm fly, but ain't nothing special about me that twenty-six grown-ass men gotta holla at me. I hadn't even reached SoHo yet.
AJ and I talked up a storm, Rob still hadn't called me back, and it was damn near 4 in the afternon. I decided to high-tail it back to Queens, take a shower, write papers for a certain Italian-Jew professor, and sleep. So that's what I did.
Rob and I hung out with his fam for a minute this morning. Then we went to Park Slope to grab a quick breakfast, and then we wandered for a bit. He got lost driving me to Prospect Park, and we laughed till he almost got into a car accident. If there was one thing I could change about him, it might be his lack of driving skills. Dude just doesn't pay attention to the road unless he's driving my dad's SUV.
I met up with JJP, JA and LO to go ice skating at Prospect Park. I hadn't gone ice skating in yeeeeaarrss, and even then my version of it included more ice-time for my ass than my feet. I'd met JA a couple times before at school; along with JJP (who's good friends with me) she'd been one of the founding mothers of a feminist club on campus that I used to be involved with, and she's cool peoples. She had brought her boyfriend, LO, with whom she's been a serious item since the moment they started dating. It's a year or two later, and they already have a house together.
From the moment I saw LO, I knew he looked familiar. The five of us (Rob stayed for a bit) went to McDonald's, and when LO and I started talking, immediately I knew why he looked so familiar. Of course he went to Brooklyn Tech. That facebook group is true. You can't escape Tech people.
LO and I used to run in the same social circles. He even dated a homegirl of mine for two years. So of couse we talked about classmates and whatever happened to them. It felt good to have a way of "closing the circle." Sure, JJP and JA could gab and they wouldn't leave me out of things, but I was sort of afraid that I'd feel like a fourth wheel. I'd been in high school when they started the feminist group, and sometimes I just can't wrap my mind around having a good time when I'm trying to include myself in conversations that don't really concern me. Also, truth be told, I've never been fully comfortable being myself around most school people. Most of the time, I project a side of me that I feel they want to see. Most of them (with the exception of, like, three people) have never seen the ebonics-talking, crazily cursing, loud-ass chick that my close friends are privy to. Today, I let that all shine through, and it felt so awesome to be in my own skin again.
Rob went home to help his family out with Christmas decorations, LO pretty much did pirouettes around the rink, and the three of us girls slid alongside the wall of the rink without busting our asses. Even though I didn't know exactly how to do it, I fell preternaturally into the swing of things, and like most things, I have a hunch I'll only get better with time.
"Yeah?" I said, groggy and worried that there was an emergency. "What's up?"
"You sleeping?"
"Uh-yeah," I said, a bit incredulous.
"I thought you were awake."
I blinked a little bit, and squinted at the clock. "Why did you think I was awake?"
"Cuz you posted a blog at five in the morning."
I couldn't help but laugh. "What are you doing reading my blog at five in the morning?!"
"I can't sleep," he said, wistfully. "I got things on my mind."
So we talked for a little bit about the things on IF's mind: his girlfriend's Christmas present, his lack of a job, his need to "grow up." Honestly, at that hour, after having had only two hours of sleep, he did all the talking. I barely stayed awake.
Even though I was due in Chinatown for an 11:15 brunch, and I still hadn't showered, I decided to sleep for a couple of minutes - and woke up at 10:30. DC had called me while I was asleep. So had Rob. I woke up with a jolt, put on whatever was on the floor, brushed my teeth, tied my hair back, and ran out of the house. When I got to the train platform, I called Rob to see if he'd waken up on time for his final; thankfully, he had. I told him to call me when his exam was over. The next time the train was above ground, I called DC and talked about her "chocolate wonder boyfriend."
The brunch was almost depressing. A bunch of the past and present staff writers for the Kingsman had gathered with the paper's two professorial advisors. The former editors talked about their present journalistic ventures, and I just listened and ate my food. Talking with everyone reaffirmed my idea that I had been on track to something real and definite. If I'd have kept on writing for different publications and doing literary internships, I could've definitely landed a job in publishing or journalism; maybe there's still a chance, if I decide to fall back on my experiences - but I'm doubtful that'll come to pass.
Even though I'm pretty certain where my future lies, I like to see what could've been. It's always bittersweet to see the remants of a future that never was: like seeing a former lover, it's useless and natural to imagine what-if scenarios, even if you were the one who decided to walk away.
So LA and AS and SH talked about the ups and downs of journalism and looking for a job in the field, and Profs. M & M offered guidance and support. I ate my beef chow mein and drank my tea earnestly. For most of our 10+ party, there wasn't much to talk about but office gossip, i.e., who'd slept with whom, who had cursed out a professor, etc. It was amusing, but not substantial. I was thankful that the food was cheap.
The main reason I showed up was to see AS. AS is one of these genuinely good, talented, supportive, self-depracating people who doesn't realize just how wonderful and beautiful and amazing they are. She's moved to PA with her boyfriend, so I don't see her as often as I'd like, and every time I say I'll call her (there have only been two times), I end up sexing it up till I'm too tired to move, and don't make it to the phone.
So brunch went well and I caught up with AS. Then I called AJ and wandered the city. I walked from Chinatown to 23rd St and 8th Ave, and on each block at least five guys tried to holla at me. Now, I gotta say, I was dressed in jeans, a T-shirt, my black leather boots, and my black leather jacket. There mighta been a bunch of booty in my jeans, but not a bit of cleavage, and no joke, my make-up was done straight-up haphazardly that morning and the beginning of a pimple was apparent above my upper lip - so I didn't see what the big deal was. At first I thought maybe it was a fluke; all girls have their days when men everywhere can't seem to get enough of them. But even after I made my way out of Chinatown, guys were still ogling me. At that point, just for fun, I started keeping score. I stopped at twenty-six. Twenty-mother-fucking-six. Now, don't get me wrong, cuz I think I'm fly, but ain't nothing special about me that twenty-six grown-ass men gotta holla at me. I hadn't even reached SoHo yet.
AJ and I talked up a storm, Rob still hadn't called me back, and it was damn near 4 in the afternon. I decided to high-tail it back to Queens, take a shower, write papers for a certain Italian-Jew professor, and sleep. So that's what I did.
Rob and I hung out with his fam for a minute this morning. Then we went to Park Slope to grab a quick breakfast, and then we wandered for a bit. He got lost driving me to Prospect Park, and we laughed till he almost got into a car accident. If there was one thing I could change about him, it might be his lack of driving skills. Dude just doesn't pay attention to the road unless he's driving my dad's SUV.
I met up with JJP, JA and LO to go ice skating at Prospect Park. I hadn't gone ice skating in yeeeeaarrss, and even then my version of it included more ice-time for my ass than my feet. I'd met JA a couple times before at school; along with JJP (who's good friends with me) she'd been one of the founding mothers of a feminist club on campus that I used to be involved with, and she's cool peoples. She had brought her boyfriend, LO, with whom she's been a serious item since the moment they started dating. It's a year or two later, and they already have a house together.
From the moment I saw LO, I knew he looked familiar. The five of us (Rob stayed for a bit) went to McDonald's, and when LO and I started talking, immediately I knew why he looked so familiar. Of course he went to Brooklyn Tech. That facebook group is true. You can't escape Tech people.
LO and I used to run in the same social circles. He even dated a homegirl of mine for two years. So of couse we talked about classmates and whatever happened to them. It felt good to have a way of "closing the circle." Sure, JJP and JA could gab and they wouldn't leave me out of things, but I was sort of afraid that I'd feel like a fourth wheel. I'd been in high school when they started the feminist group, and sometimes I just can't wrap my mind around having a good time when I'm trying to include myself in conversations that don't really concern me. Also, truth be told, I've never been fully comfortable being myself around most school people. Most of the time, I project a side of me that I feel they want to see. Most of them (with the exception of, like, three people) have never seen the ebonics-talking, crazily cursing, loud-ass chick that my close friends are privy to. Today, I let that all shine through, and it felt so awesome to be in my own skin again.
Rob went home to help his family out with Christmas decorations, LO pretty much did pirouettes around the rink, and the three of us girls slid alongside the wall of the rink without busting our asses. Even though I didn't know exactly how to do it, I fell preternaturally into the swing of things, and like most things, I have a hunch I'll only get better with time.
Writer's Realization #1
Ya know that feeling you get sometimes, while you're writing a piece, that it's unbelievably amazing? Well, it's most likely not the unbelievably amazing piece that you think it is. Not yet, anyway. Finish it, take a break from it, then edit the hell out of it. Even if it's unbelievably amazing in its first draft, it's not as unbelievably amazing as it'll be after it's edited and revised.
I'm Sooooooo Boring
I feel like I'm getting fatter, but yesterday, a friend corrected me by calling me "thick." "There's no way anyone can call you fat," she said, rolling her eyes. "Maybe you've put on a little weight, but you look more like an hourglass than a tub o' lard."
The truth is, I am getting pudgier. My ass has grown so much that none of my jeans fit right, and my breasts have gotten so large that none of my bras (which are 36 DD)fit at all. My waistline's expanded, too. The thing is, my friend's right. I'm by no means "fat." In this obese and image-conscious society, my proportions are "average" to "healthy." I walk down the street, and men talk to me. I smile and I get anything I want. I have the nagging suspicion that I'm not hard on myself because of social standards or lack of attention. I think I'm just bored out of my mind.
A couple of days ago, I started working out again. I biked four and a half miles on the stationary bike (twenty-minute intermediate level workout), and instead of listening to music I just thought about random shit. For twenty minutes, I fantasized about how my house would look after I renovated it: adding to the front and back of the house, tearing down the garage and making a two-car two-story garage in its place, stripping the basement and making it over, putting in new windows, etc. Then, yesterday, when I exercised on the elliptical for half an hour, I imagined the trips I'd go on: backpacking and couchsurfing in Europe, taking a camel safari in the middle east, island hopping in Asia, driving an RV cross-country with my BFFs, etc. That's what gets me through my workouts: thinking about the future. And, really, that's what gets me through the day.
I've come to the conclusion that there is nothing more I can do with my life than what I'm doing at the moment. Anything more that happens is simply an extension of the motivated, responsible, artistic, eccentric person that I am now. And though I look forward to improving my station in life and experiencing more awesome adventures, none of it excites me. Everything's become more of the same.
This feeling isn't cause for concern. It's just my mind's way of making the impossible possible. If I'd have known the full depth of the risks or repercussions or uncertainty in any of my past undertakings, I'm pretty sure I would've been too afraid or too humbled to take on the venture. I have to believe that everything is small potatoes in order to accomplish anything. And while my present is zapped of excitement, I'm fairly certain that when all's said and done, I'll be thrilled to have accomplished "impossible" goals.
The truth is, I am getting pudgier. My ass has grown so much that none of my jeans fit right, and my breasts have gotten so large that none of my bras (which are 36 DD)fit at all. My waistline's expanded, too. The thing is, my friend's right. I'm by no means "fat." In this obese and image-conscious society, my proportions are "average" to "healthy." I walk down the street, and men talk to me. I smile and I get anything I want. I have the nagging suspicion that I'm not hard on myself because of social standards or lack of attention. I think I'm just bored out of my mind.
A couple of days ago, I started working out again. I biked four and a half miles on the stationary bike (twenty-minute intermediate level workout), and instead of listening to music I just thought about random shit. For twenty minutes, I fantasized about how my house would look after I renovated it: adding to the front and back of the house, tearing down the garage and making a two-car two-story garage in its place, stripping the basement and making it over, putting in new windows, etc. Then, yesterday, when I exercised on the elliptical for half an hour, I imagined the trips I'd go on: backpacking and couchsurfing in Europe, taking a camel safari in the middle east, island hopping in Asia, driving an RV cross-country with my BFFs, etc. That's what gets me through my workouts: thinking about the future. And, really, that's what gets me through the day.
I've come to the conclusion that there is nothing more I can do with my life than what I'm doing at the moment. Anything more that happens is simply an extension of the motivated, responsible, artistic, eccentric person that I am now. And though I look forward to improving my station in life and experiencing more awesome adventures, none of it excites me. Everything's become more of the same.
This feeling isn't cause for concern. It's just my mind's way of making the impossible possible. If I'd have known the full depth of the risks or repercussions or uncertainty in any of my past undertakings, I'm pretty sure I would've been too afraid or too humbled to take on the venture. I have to believe that everything is small potatoes in order to accomplish anything. And while my present is zapped of excitement, I'm fairly certain that when all's said and done, I'll be thrilled to have accomplished "impossible" goals.
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Sexy Time
My current thought, as I lay in a satisfied heap on the bed and gather myself for a night on the town: Say what you want about "making love," but when the act of sex is physically and emotionally fulfilling, fucking is a laughable memory.
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