Another Train Ride, Heading Back To Bean Town

It’s hard to believe I won’t be seeing Aimee for two months.

I don’t believe in New Year’s Resolutions (not because I’m Jewish and we have our own calendar, but because...

(WHAT?!! I just passed this gigantic mall-type metal church with a big banner hanging from the outside that said, “Is it nothing to you? Lamentations some number: some number." Weird.)

...Anyway, back to New Years Resolutions: I don’t believe in them because they’re stupid. Still, I have one this year:

I need to make my home in New York a place where I can refuel with my writing. (We’re passing the Bronx now.) Not just blogging and emailing, but work. Real work. I need to get back to my characters.

I can’t believe I’m leaving New York. I know it’s only two weeks but I’m going to miss my new home. The chaos, the distractions, the extremes.

I’m going to see Kimberley in fivish hours and we’re going out with her friends for dinner (this is going to be fun, stop worrying, Kimberley!) and celebration. I feel like I haven’t seen my sister in forever. And I’m going to give her a red kettle because she doesn’t have one.

Aimee and I had brunch at 9th Street Market; don’t believe the hype. It’s way too expensive and they’re all over the place with their ambiance. The food was not memorable. When we left, the word “WHO” had been written in the clouds above us by one of those sky-writers. I wonder what it means.

We walked around, enjoying the sunny day, with a quick stop at Angelica to make a you tube video for E. Then I gave Aimee my shooties as a final farewell. We walked to the R and Aimee went to Brooklyn while I went to Penn Station. We took pictures, so dad, don’t be surprised that I have digital pictures to share. (Happy birthday, dad! Love you! Did you know you can eat the entire apple except the seeds, just like a pear?)

It feels like the end of an era. A very concentrated era, but isn’t everything like that in New York?

Hanging out with Aimee reminded me of summer camp. The city became a gigantic jungle gym. Now we must go out into the world and kick some art ass!

Twenty minutes until New Haven.

Movie of the day: Sliding Doors

Haircut Happiness

This morning, the bookstore needed my help up front. So I went upstairs and started chatting with this volunteer, a microbiologist from Romania. She also has hair like mine and I loved her cut.

So we ended up talking about hair and she offered to cut mine. At lunch, she cut my hair in the basement bathroom. I love it! It's way cuter than the way the woman on 2nd Avenue cut it, and today's haircut cost me nothing (as opposed to almost ninety dollars on 2nd Ave).

I'm really wishing I had a digi-cam today. (If have extra time in Somerville, I'll get one.)


E told me she's reminded of Mary Tyler Moore throwing up her beret when she reads my blog. From one Minnesota woman to another. (Maybe when I get a digi-cam, I can reenact this picture.)

I leave for Boston for my next residency in two days...

Bogosian and The Theater Girl

Yesterday I saw “History Boys,” which was the highlight of my day. If you want a really great story that feels like a really great book, this is the movie for you. I can’t tell you how happy I was to end my day with this movie.

Two days ago, something happened and I never went into detail about it, so here goes:
Eric Bogosian came into Housing Works and one of my coworkers pointed him out. Well, I misunderstood who she was referring to, so I started flirting with this older guy for a solid twenty minutes. I learned all about his life in Hastings, his eleven year old daughter, his ex-wife, how he felt about parenting, etc. He was ready to give me his phone number. Finally, I had to go help someone else. I said to my coworker, “So that was Eric Bogosian?” and she said, “No, Eric Bogosian left twenty minutes ago.” I spent all this time trying to hook up with some random 40 year old! He must have been so excited and confused to have so much attention from me.

Fast forward to today. Jessica, the real magic bullet owner came to pick up her package. First of all, she thought Aimee and I were lovers because Aimee was hanging out in her pajamas (actually mine) and why else would two grown women be lying around in their pajamas at 10 pm if they both didn’t both live there? Then I spotted her theater ring (you know, one of those comedy/tragedy face mask things) and she stood in my apartment telling us:
1. She graduated in 05!!!! from BU!!!
2. Her dad lives in the West Village and he’s lived there for 35 years and she’s from New York and she’s a real New Yorker and did she mention her dad’s from the West Village and he’s lived there even before it was SAFE and that she loves the West Village and, you know, the Meat Packing District, and did she mention she’s from West Village?
3. She went to a theater high school. I think it was in the West Village.
4. She has a shih-tzu. (Later, we got to see her apartment, which has a painting-- Aimee thinks it’s a photograph-- of her dog that she can look at while lying in her bed (weird and creepy and not very feng shui, let me tell you).
5. The only good thing about Jessica is that she told me which phone reception is best in our building. Verizon.
6. Did I mention she’s from the West Village?

So the cycle of the magic bullet has come to an end. On the upside, Aimee got a free cardboard box, I got a potential cat sitter, and I met the only person in her adult years who wears a theater ring.

Aimee feng-shuied my apartment some more. Now she’s all drugged up and we’re off to sleep. Good night lovely people.

Song of the night: “You’re Getting Too Smart” by The Detroit Emeralds

p.s. Jessica isn't that bad. Aimee just hates her because she's jealous and thinks Jessica will be my new Aimee Replacement.

My Vengeful Christmas: Part One

My whole schedule has been reworked and I may end up missing “For Your Consideration.” I think I’ll only see four movies. Movies make me forget my head. I’m very disoriented, but I’m going with it.

I’ve made a pit stop home in between movie number one (Dream Girls) and movie number two (Volver).

Dream Girls gets a four out of five stars in comparison to other big budget movies/holiday films and I’m SO wanting to see the original Broadway production that is available on video. Jennifer Hudson stole the show. She’s stunning. The audience applauded a lot. That was fun.

Volver gets three and a half stars out of five in comparison to other Almodovar films. The mother, who used to act in Pedro’s older films, was kind of weak in this one. But this was one of Penelope’s best performances by far. Bravo.

I had movie seat karma issues. Before the second movie, I was pretending to be saving seats for people so nobody could sit near me. When push came to shove, I gave up the two to my right to what seemed like a nice 40-something lesbian couple. But wait! They decided to talk through the movie. I kept asking them to be quiet, which they refused to do. Mind you, I had done them a favor by giving up the seats, but anyway, when the film ended, I got up and promptly placed all my weight on one of their feet. I paused, letting the pressure dig in, and she yelled, “Excuse me!” I ignored her and moved on. I know that karma may catch up with me at “History Boys,” which I am running out the door to go see, but what can I do? Revenge is my middle name.

Other things:

I want patent leather shoes kind of. The old ones, what were they called? With the white and black. Oh! Saddle shoes.

I think New York is a city of over-abundance and I am totally susceptible to this problem.

I love New York Christmas!! I’ve been bonding (when I'm not being vengeful) with other movie-goers about my marathon.

My Christmas Itinerary

10:10 am: Dream Girls
noon: Borat

Lunch Break: Snacks

3:15 pm: For Your Consideration
5:15 pm: Volver
7:45 pm: History Boys

Dinner: Chinese Food (Take-Out)

Home for three hours of writing

1 am: Sleep

It's traditional to go to The Jewish Museum on Christmas and this year they are having an exhibit of Jewish comics, which I would love to see but I don't have time with my movie schedule. Plus it's all the way uptown. Usually, there's a line down the block and they serve Ghirardelli Hot Cocoa while you wait. What do you think, Jewish Museum or movies? (Here's a picture of Christmas 2 or 3 years ago.)

p.s. I think I might like to meet my next lover at Trader Joes.

the difference is clear:

i am not like new yorkers. i am flamboyantly happy and here is a visual aid to demonstrate the difference between me and others:


(thanks to kimberley for the jeans pictured above. i think they're a little baggy on my chicken legs, but I'm going to keep wearing them.)
(my head looks gigantic in this picture.)
two nights ago, i was up the whole night minus one hour of sleep. last night i took sleepinal and went to bed at 7:30 pm. some day i'll get it right. (have you ever noticed how so many of all of our posts revolve around the topic of sleep?)

fun with a digital camera! here i am trying to appreciate my profile. this is very much not my favorite angle, so while i had that ridiculous disposable camera, i tried to work it out.

happy last night of hanukah!

p.s. In my theory of hyper-connectivity, i came up with a possibility while falling asleep last night: maybe the faces of people you can remember are the people you consider sincere and the faces of people you can't remember are those that aren't. maybe this theory is too simplistic. it made a lot more sense while i was drifting off...

It Would Be Wrong To Keep It... A True Story

Dear Jessica,

Today I came home to find two UPS packages at my door. The smaller one contained more treats from my sister. The larger one contained this incredible As Seen On Television Magic Bullet Blender Mixer System. The thing is, this was a gift sent to you. I don't know who you are or where you live, but the package had my mailing address and your name on it. As much as I would love to have my very own Magic Bullet Blender Mixer that purports to make chicken salad in six seconds, I cannot, in good conscience, keep this gift that does not belong to me.

I have sent you an email and left a message at a random number that I'm hoping is yours. Please let me know where you live and I will personally be your Jewish Santa and deliver your MBBMS.

For some reason, I'm worried you're not going to fully appreciate this amazing gift in the ways that I think I might take to it, but that's no reason for me to withhold handing it over.

My biggest dream would be for you to either tell me you don't want the MBBMS and give it to me just because and/or for you to give me eight million dollars just for doing the right thing and going to all this trouble.

Or maybe you live in my building and you can be my second friend that lives on my block (Robb is number one).

Happy Hanukah! (I saw from your last name that you are a member of the tribe.) I hope you make lots of yummy latkes in your MBBMS and don't forget to leave some for your friend in the basement.

Love,
Gili

I Think I Found My New Favorite Book Series...

On my lunch break, I ran over to Moishe's Bake Shop to purchase sufganiyot (jelly donuts) for Tara's Hanukah party. How great is it to live in a cty where I can ask for sufganiyot and they not only know what I'm talking about, but wish me a happy hannukah on my way out?! Jewish cities rule!
I didn't want to use this picture of sufganiyot because it's from Martha Stewart (could you be more waspy??), but it's an accurate representation and as we have all learned, far too clearly, I does not own a digital camera.



The best thing that happened today is I sold the "Bridge To Terabithia" book to a book dealer in Georgia, so I got to personally deliver it to FedEx. It was like seeing my baby off at the ferry. It was hard to see her go but I know somewhere in Georgia, some young child is not going to understand the magnitude of the Christmas present they are about to receive.... And that's how I sleep at night.



During the White Elephant part of Tara's party, I got this amazing young adult book, which was regifted by Emily, who I've met before. (Emily basically brought all the junk from her house that she didn't want.) The book is written for me. And I quote:
"The Phatom reared, silver power against the white fury of snow.... Sam walked toward the hidden home of the wild horses. She was one of them now."
If this woman (or ghost writer) can get published, I feel pretty good about my chances. Maybe I'll start a collection of frightening young adult horse books. It turns out that the one I got is number 24 in a huge series. What if I tried to read all of them?

Tales of A Teenage Loose Cannon

I have been accused on more than one occasion of being a loose cannon. Which is why I’m worried. (I know I’m not a teenager anymore, but I still feel like one.)

I visited Aimee at lunch today and everyone was so calm and under-excited. Enter Gili, The Tornado, and dear G-D, please don’t let me have embarrassed Aimee. Oy, I talked about my double periods. I worry I did damage.

It is truly gift-giving time!!
Today I received:

*Pee-Wee’s Playhouse Season One DVD from Mom and Dad
*A beautiful green rug for my apartment from Kimberley
*An amazing print from Aimee that says, “My Name Is Not China” (I know there was some confusion about this issue and my name.)
*A mix CD from Aimee
*The biggest surprise ever: A package from Aimee with handmade greeting cards (These are a reason in and of itself for me to have a digi-cam), a beautiful necklace/bracelet, a tiny tree print, AND another homemade card.

At the post office this morning, the man behind me told me I have beautiful eyelashes. I had been staring at another person wishing I looked more like them and it was so nice that he just came out and said that. I was thinking this world would be so great (if not slightly creepy) if everyone gave everyone else the compliments that they are thinking.

Dispelling A Rumor:
I’m here to announce that Aimee and I are not a couple. We are not lesbian lovers. Enough, people.

I’d like to go see Yusef Komunyakaa read tonight at KGB, but we all know I never end up making it to readings.

Biggest hope:
I will finally talk to Riva today.

p.s. My mom thought that Tompkins Square Park was called "Munchkin Square Park." How weird would that be? And SO not approrpiate!!

Hanukah Treats

My blog swap food person sent me a package that arrived last night. Inside I found cystallized ginger cookies, rugelach with hazelnut peach filling, gelt, a moon hanging thingy, a hanukah lollipop, and mango tea. How did she know I love tea?? I have not been able to stop the intake of ginger cookies. Either has Cornelius. They are so freaking good!! Thanks, Beth!

Ah, home

This week has gone on too darn long. Here’s a list of things that happened today:

1. A tree fell on a woman on 10th Street on my way to work this morning. It’s a long story, but the point is, a man was driving a truck and basically hit a tree and then the tree split in half and the branches fell on a woman. She’s okay, I think. The driver didn’t even get out of the truck. This is how I started my day.

2. I held a first edition, signed copy of Bridge To Terabithia that’s worth 750 dollars. I might be shipping it off on Monday if the book dealer that I spoke to today wants to buy it. This is my favorite young adult book. Ever.

3. Talked to an angry man (actually, I was talked at by him) on the phone today (he had a right to be angry) who kept calling me “lady” over and over again (he didn’t have a right to be calling me “lady,” especially the way he was calling me it).

4. Met Corrinne Bailey Rae and watched her practicing for her show at Housing Works tonight. I didn’t stay because Aimee told me I needed to go home. And also because the thought of watching some woman (that I’ve never even heard of) sing while being squished between three hundred other people sounded like a bad way to end the day.

5. Came home to my blog swap package. I have to take pictures of the food, which I will post tomorrow. In the meantime, I have been stuffing myself with ginger cookies all night.

6. Took another shower and tried out the honey all over the skin thing the way I’m supposed to do it. So far, so good.

Tonight’s plan: Two hours of writing, one hour of reading stuff for workshops, reading fun stuff until I go to bed, which will hopefully happen by midnight.

Ah, home.

Q: How Many Ways Can I Entertain Myself While Never Getting Any School Work Done?

A: A lot.

I have blotches of honey all over my face and arms. After spending the last five hours hanging out with Aimee, I stopped by Trader Joe’s and bought a 3 lb. can of honey. She convinced me that it would be good for my skin. I think I put too much on because I’m all sticky and keep leaving little dabs of honey all over my apartment. Did I do it wrong, Aimee??

Today, Sarah Michelle Geller was at Housing Works. The store was closed and the street was closed off for the movie shoot. They’re filming “A Girl’s Guide To Hunting And Fishing,” which was the dumbest book ever but I might go see the movie to see Housing Works. Aimee witnessed a lot of really bizarre interactions that I had during the filming of the movie. I won’t get into it, but at one point, this strange Italian woman seemed to get angry with me for not speaking Italian even though she was the one trespassing.
I don’t care about Sarah Michelle Geller, but I need to say this: She is very, very skinny. Make no mistake. She is so skinny, she’s almost not there.


I was supposed to go to a reading tonight, but Aimee and I played hooky. We stopped at Black Hound and ate lots of dessert samples. They were playing Delilah After Dark and I was way happier about it than the guy working behind the counter. I don’t know why. And get this, Aimee had never heard of Delilah. Wow. I am really exposing her to a whole new world. I like to think of it as my form of community service. (Just kidding.)

We had a late dinner (post-bowls of cereal and free samples and yummy ginger dark chocolate) at Souen. I stuffed myself with bok choy and rice and other macrobiotic treats. I had written “Eat Healthy” in my planner for today. Maybe tomorrow.

I got more Feng Shui tips and what I'm learning is that I am the opposite of Feng Shui.

One last thing: on my walk home, I saw a man dressed in completely in tinfoil with only a pair of striped boxers on top. I’m not even sure he was a man, since his face was covered. It was for a photo-shoot. Again, wish I had a digi-cam.

Music: “All Night” by Damien and Stephen Marley

The Glow In The Dark Stars on My Outer Space Pillowcase Are Keeping Me Awake

...kind of. But maybe I’m just scapegoating my pillowcase. The time is 2:15 am. I’ve decided to make tea.

Today was a bad day, and I am realizing that I have to be more honest with my workplace when I’m frustrated. I can’t keep it to myself because it will find a way out of me and it’s better to be direct than pent up. I don’t do pent up well. Never have.

I’m not anywhere near tired. This is the pattern: begin my week pretending to be healthy, then stay up really late several nights mid-week, and finally, drag myself through the last days of the week. This is not a good pattern. Note to self: work on this.

Aimee Feng Shui’d my apartment. It’s a really big improvement. Someday I’ll have a digi-cam and harass others with pictures. In the meantime, just know she made it work in a major way. Dad, the big tall bookshelf is now lying on its side and it looks way less precarious and way better.

I’ve been wondering lately why it’s so satisfying to read incredibly real-to-life fiction, but living incredibly real-to-life nonfiction is not so satisfying. Seriously, explain this to me.

Tomorrow, the store is closed and we will be supervising a film shoot. At night, I’m going to a reading. (Tomorrow is actually today, but later.)

Right now, it seems much more important for me to be in the habit of loving things-- like writing, New York, my apartment, random strangers-- intensely and not worrying so much about having things love me back. There’s a part of my brain that decided I need to actively pursue what makes me excited and happy and curious. So that’s what I’m doing.

Music That’s On:
Birthday mix from Riva.

New Club I’m Starting Right Now:
Conspiratorial Artists (I’m not sure what we’ll conspire about, but I’m now accepting members. We can discuss our thoughts on conspiring at our first meeting.)

Pressing Question:
Which is worse? Listening to Britney Spears or Nelly Furtado?

Busy Week With Blood

That's right folks. I'm doing such a bad job of taking care of myself that G-d served me up a second period. Believe it. Needless to say, I'm not a fan.

On the upside, Aimee slept over last night!!! Yea!!! How fun. For dinner, I wandered the streets looking for pumpkin soup. Everywhere I went, the cafe staff looked at me like I was out of my mind. Like, why the heck would we have pumpkin soup? So I gave up, went home, got in my pajamas, and ate cereal.

This week is busy busy, as usual. Plans: reading to attend tomorrow night, next night is some singer that's supposed to be AMAZING, then party with Aimee's artsy friends, then ice skating, then hanukah party with Tara.

Must make time to write. Have I learned nothing???

Paulette: come visit NY and we can have sleep over parties and be silly. Wish you were still here.

Sandra: call me again next week!! I want to hear everything!!!!

song of the day: anything but "New Year's Resolution" by Nick Lachey. Grrrr.

Not Peter Dinklage

Guess what? I saw another famous person on the street five minutes ago. I was heading to my brow wax (FINALLY!) and Wallace Shawn was trying to break down the Village East Cinemas doors. What is up with me seeing very short men? Okay, it's only two, but still. Lots of people looked excited to see him. I didn't say anything. It was a magical moment, so I knew the brow wax would be great. Loved him in "The Princess Bride" and in "Sex and the City."

Turns out, I'm pretty sure I've been to this brow wax place before. I think Ellen took me once a long time ago. It might have been my very first time ever. They were fast and furious and I'm happy with the results.

All my errands are complete (except I'm mid-laundry right now) which is a miracle. Today is beautiful and sunny and I'm loving running around.

Song of the day is dedicated to Ellen:
Rollercoaster By The Sea: Jonathan Richman. Here are the lyrics.

The Cure For Winter Blues=

1. Sierra Designs down booties. I have worn mine down, but they are still part of my indoor winter uniform.

2. Dagoba Hot Cocoa. See previous post.

3. Trader Joe's Honeybush tea. See previous post.

4. Trader Joe's Red Pepper and Tomato soup. See previous post.

5. Scarves.

6. Strolling around New York. Yesterday, a stranger told me, "Transcend the nonsense." I'm working on it.

7. Fingerless gloves. It's still not cold enough to have the fingers completely covered; they just get sweaty and suffocated.

8. Sleep. Last night I slept for twelve hours. If I'm not a bear, I don't know what I am.

9. Coffee. Today I got up at 2 pm, so I didn't have any coffee. That's right, no coffee. A clean and sober day to detox. But in general, coffee is my main ingredient for curing those winter blahs.

10. Hot showers. Lots and lots of hot showers.

Truth: So far, winter blues haven't really happened. There's still too much to do and to love in this city.

Tomorrow's goal is to get myself a New York Public Library Card.

quarantined

Paul Muldoon read tonight at Housing Works. I stayed for a while, but the guilt I felt was too great. Or maybe it was too much to listen to someone who spoke so slowly. My brain just isn’t that patient right now. I hurried home to work more on my writing. It’s official: I’m the last person in my class to upload my manuscripts for workshop. Sigh. Maybe next semester, I’ll be better. Probably not.


I’m taking tomorrow off to finish up my second piece. It’s got to go out, no matter what.

This is an official apology: Hanukah gifts will be late. Sorry.

New York has gotten a bit colder, but I still love it. Everything’s better here, and I’d love to expand on this, but writing beckons.

Thanks to Aimee, I’ve begun a jumping jack regimen, which is a nice way to end the day, but doing them kind of makes me feel like I’m in prison. I guess I sort of am until I get through with this frickin’ story.

Grocery list (hopefully this can happen tomorrow once writing is complete):
Bananas, cherry tomatoes, carrot juice, soy milk, apple sauce, soup, tea, cereal, carrots, spinach, tofu

Plus I need a brow wax big time. And a hair cut. And black tights. And a new printer cartridge. (This is what happens when I never allow myself to leave my house.)

Music: Ray LaMontagne
Obsession: Dagoba Xocolatl (Hot Chocolate w/chilies and cinnamon)

Please Leave Me A Message And I'll Get Back To You As Soon As Possible

Work, coffee, school, coffee, repeat. Running just as fast as I can...
I'm so ridiculously busy and it's totally my fault for putting off school until the last minute.
I'm on lunch in the middle of a New Hire Orientation and I've come up with a self-diagnosis/new vocab word:
I've decided I have Neurasthenia. Not really, but it's always fun to find new possible illnesses.

One of my pieces I'm wokring on is getting to the place where I want it to be, but the other one is very stubborn (okay, it's me that's stubborn) and it refuses to conform to my wants (actually, I think the problem is, I really have no idea where I want it to be going). Unfortunately, it's due today. I'm ignoring that part because I'd be ashamed to turn it in and call myself a writer.



Along with Alice Munro, I'm partaking in some light reading. I finally got my hands on a copy of Rats which is perfect-timing for moving to New York. It's my subway and lunch reading and so far, I think it should be required reading for moving to this city.
Back to orientation....

Thoughts from the 12th Annual World AIDS Day Reading of the Names Vigil

The reading at City Hall takes place from midnight to midnight today, and consists of five podiums in a semi-circle with five people simultaneously reading names. You can read for as short or as long as you want and for people who don’t like the sound of their own voice (me), the good news is that we are all reading different names at the same time.

Here are my thoughts that I scribbled during my four-hour shift at the reading:

First time reading:
*Whose lips have touched this microphone besides mine?
*What if I read names incorrectly and people ask me to stop reading or start laughing at me?
*Maybe I need to read louder to give the people who’ve passed away respect.
*Slow down, think of each person, each life, each meaningful existence. Who were they? What was their life like?
*Listen to the other people reading around me. What are they thinking about? Who are the people that they are naming?
*What if I accidentally skip a name? Will they be remembered? Will their name be spoken aloud before next year’s vigil?
*This is being broadcast live on NPR. I hope the families are not disappointed with the way we’re pronouncing the names.

-When I sat down after the first reading, I realized some of the same names are at different podiums, so if I accidentally skipped a name, someone else would read it.

Second reading:
*I’m more distracted and I keep messing up names.
*I touched my lips to the microphone again. I ended up at the same podium again, so it’s the same microphone.
*This time, I’m trying to take my time, breathe, and read louder.

-And then the rain came. At first, it was gentle:
*My coworker, Eddie was holding an umbrella for one of the women reading. It was time for him to leave (his shift had ended) so I offered to hold the umbrella.
*The wind picked up and the woman kept going. We got soaked, the rain flooding in from every direction.
*I huddled closer, and one of the volunteers handed us another umbrella so I was trying to shield this woman and myself from two directions.
*The wind kept picking up and I wasn’t strong enough to hold the umbrellas.
*I liked huddling next to this woman, watching her read from the list of names. I don’t know her and I may never see her again, but standing under the umbrellas with her in the pouring rain, I felt so close to her and so good.
*When we finally got off the podium, she turned and said, “Thanks” to me. Stupidly, I said, “Thank YOU.”

With an hour left until my shift ends, I’m standing under the tent with other volunteers and employees, protected from the rain. My jeans, shoes, and socks are soaked. But I’m alive and listening to the names and the rain is finally letting up.

tired of the long haul (or maybe just a little sleepy as i try to settle in)

I was lying in my perfect bed, not sleeping, but trying my darndest. The Be Good Tanyas were playing on my CD alarm clock and I was listening to “Midnight Moonlight,” which got me thinking about all the moving around I’ve done in my life. So I drew a map of the U.S. in my journal and made arrows going from place to place. (This doesn’t include summer camps or trips/semesters abroad.) The goal of this visual aid is to help me sort through my scattered brain. (Thank goodness I get to sleep in tomorrow.) I don’t have a scanner, so I’ll try to do it through pictures.

Minneapolis, MN: 0-5

Miami, FL: 5-8

North Palm Beach, FL: 8-16

Interlochen, MI: 16-18

Oberlin, OH: 18-22

San Francisco, CA: 22-26

Again to Minneapolis, MN: 26-27

New York, NY: 27-??

Nope, still not feeling like I can sleep. Maybe I'll turn the lights off again...

Maybe 8 should be my new bed time...

I’m so tired. So, so tired. Today was one of those days where I left my house late, walked five blocks, realized I didn't bring my planner with me, turned around and walked back home, and then started out again.

It’s 8 o'clock and I was planning on revising tonight, but a lot of me wants to get in bed, read, and fall asleep. I might hang out with my friend, Megan tonight, but it’s feeling less likely. The advantage to seeing her tonight is that she likes to drink and we’d probably be out late, which is perfect since I get to sleep in tomorrow. The disadvantage is that I’m so sleepy.

Yesterday I had the day off. More errands happened than any other day since I’ve lived here. I got to cross off everything on my planner. And I got writing done. I went out with Kim to this restaurant called Poetessa. It’s right near my house on 2nd Avenue and as I always am when Kim picks the place, I was skeptical. She goes in for the really fancy places that tend to be overpriced and gimmicky, but this was amazing. I had a potato-encrusted salmon with spinach and mashed potatoes (a lot of potatoes) with a chardonnay. The fish tasted like a potato latke with a hint of fish. It was SO good. I’m still mystified.

Then we went back to Astoria to watch the second to last America’s Next Top Model and look at all of our prospective lovers on the internet. I got home late and woke up early, hence the tiredness. Nothing interesting happened at work today except I found out that my least favorite volunteer is going to be around a lot more. Sigh.

Tomorrow is the real World AIDS Day, as Riva brought to my attention. In the evening, I have to read names at the vigil at City Hall. I get paid to do it, but I’m really not excited about listening to my own voice projected throughout downtown for four hours. I know it’s petty, but that’s what I’m thinking about.


It’s 70 degrees here and the heat is on in my apartment. That’s not making me less sleepy.


My new cereal of choice: Trader Joe’s Organic Morning Lite.
Oh! Kim gave me all this free crap from her workplace including a Lionel Richie album. I’m supposed to re-gift whatever I don’t want, but I’m psyched to rock out to Lionel tonight while I write.
New constant body sensation: since I’ve been drinking so much coffee and tea every day (it’s free at work and then there’s the honeybush at home) my mouth/tongue is perpetually burned. At this point, it’s almost comforting.
Proof that I need to go to bed soon: I just forgot that I had soup on the stove and it boiled over. I could hear something sizzling, but it didn't register at all. Now it's everywhere!

Hop, Skip, Jump

Why, you ask, was today such a great day? Because I'm in New York, silly.

The drilling from last night ended at 3 am. Yep. Today I wore the brown dress that Kimberley and I found at Filene's for eight dollars and it was so comfy, similar to wearing nothing except I had layers over it. I want to live in it.

Aimee came by work and I abandoned my job to hang out (not that anyone at work cares or notices). We had tea and chatted on as though we hadn't seen each other two days before. New friends are so fun!!! And she came bearing gifts, which I should have expected. I am truly, truly disappointed in myself because during the drilling last night, I was thinking of what I wanted to give Aimee, but I was too lazy to leave the air mattress and I met her with empty hands. She gave me another hand-made journal that is so, so beautiful and precious and I'm afraid to use it because it's so perfect. I've been told to get over this.

I spent most of the day researching really cool, obscure art books from other countries. Each book took an average of an hour to learn about, so I felt like I was on a treasure hunt through the internet. The trance I get in while rescuing books from the depths of obscurity is similar to the writing trance (as long as my coworkers are semi-mellow).

After work, I was running, running, running home because the mattress guy called and said he was waiting for me. Guess who I saw again? Peter Dinklage! Right near my home with a tall blonde woman. We made eye-contact (maybe because my coat is bright green) and I felt less nervous this time, but I couldn't say anything because mattress man was waiting.

So now I have a real bed!!!! I'm going to unwrap it from the gigantic plastic wrapper soon. Who knew a mattress could be so exciting?

I'm about to have some tomato and red-pepper Trader Joe's soup and get some writing going. I found out I get tomorrow off because of a change in plans regarding my new hire orientation, which I need to attend. I have so much free time right now. It's adding to the whole I go to summer camp and not work feeling.

my new life suffix: ING

I met another PBGV on the street today. A dog walker was out with her and with a beagle. It was like hound heaven. We bonded over our love of hounds and I realized that both PBGVs I’ve met live on 18th Street.

I bought a bed! Well, I bought a queen-sized mattress. I can’t bring myself to spend a couple extra hundred dollars for the box frame. It’s arriving tomorrow after work and then no more air mattress for me! I don’t want to keep sleeping on the a.m., but I have been sleeping well these past few nights.

I never think I’m old, and I’m not, but I did have a minor freak out at work the other day because some of the high schoolers that volunteer at housing works didn’t know who Hall & Oates are. One of them thought I was talking about cereal. This is Hall & Oates! Even if you wanted to ignore them, how could you not know at least one of their songs?! I never thought I would grow up to be one of those, “Oh my goodness, you’re so young!” adults. Now I’m not so sure.

I’ve been having these fantasies of turning my apartment into a movie theater on the first Tuesday of every month. I was thinking I’d call it “Tuesdays at Gili’s”. I’d pick out a great movie (by my standards) and put all of my valuables in the airshaft. I’d make Rice Krispy treats, serve root beer, and project the movie on one of the walls (which are white and perfect for movie-watching), and charge people three dollars to squeeze into my apartment. It would be one of those fun, obscure things around town. People would say, “There’s nothing else going on, let’s go see what’s playing at Tuesdays at Gili’s.” Maybe I could even have a tiny marquee on the gate of my building. Most likely it would end up being more labor than fun, which is how my fantasy always ends, but it’s the kind of thing I would go to, so I bet there are others who would enjoy it.

Reading helps me revise my work. Right now, I’m in another Alice Munro trance. Every page gives me ideas about how to slow down and get further inside my characters. I’ve been reading a few paragraphs, then revising a little, then reading some more. I’m feeling a lot less discouraged.

On a grander feeling spectrum, there’s something in me that feels like I’m on the cusp of something. I can’t really say more because I don’t know more. Today I realized New York really allows me to be in my element in a way that the Bay Area and Minneapolis never did. I hope this feeling doesn’t wear off, but for now, I’m trying to live it up.

Tomorrow is World AIDS Day, which has new meaning for me because many of my coworkers are positive. I saw a really excellent documentary on PBS about a month ago, which addressed how serious the HIV/AIDS crisis is in the U.S. and how it’s wonderful that we’re focusing our attention on the pandemic in other countries, but we still have an urgent situation in this country. I don’t need to go into detail about how our ambivalence is completely linked to racism and classism, but all of this is on my mind as tomorrow approaches. Before working at my current job, I wasn’t used to being around people who casually speak about how lucky they are to be alive, and how they’ve lost so many friends to the illness and are so sick of attending funerals. It’s good to be reminded that I shouldn’t take life for granted.

[On a lighter note, I’m still not sure about what to do in regard to the blog privacy issue. I’ll keep you posted.]

Newfound treasure: Trader Joe’s Honeybush Herbal Tea (really good with a drop of soy milk)

p.s. I am always bragging about how quiet my apartment is. It's like a fort in the city. Not tonight. It's 12:30 and I was getting ready for bed when all these construction workers showed up. THEY ARE DRILLING A HOLE IN THE STREET RIGHT OUTSIDE MY BUILDING!! So far, it's been twenty minutes of drilling. I just went to check on what was going on and one of my neighbors yelled, "shut up!" at them out her window. I'm not sure what they're digging for. Maybe they found gold. Really, it's unclear why there's this midnight urgency. It's going to be a long night...

censor/ship has sailed...

It's been another great weekend. I've seen Ellen, Aimee (she's a real person), Isaiah, and a few other fabulous friends. There's been catching up, new discoveries around the city, and free furniture from the street. One thing we found is a pink Hello Kitty television that works, so I'm planning on springing for a dvd/vhs player. (I still need a bed, which is on my shopping list this week.)

This weekend, I got to interact with the man who discovered Bob Dylan and with Dylan's ex-girlfriend, who is pictured on his album. They were both kind of snobby. I guess I might be too. It was still exciting for me as a big Dylan fan.

Bigger news is that I'm trying to decide if I should give up on blogging. I've been finding that everything I want to write could be used against me in a court of law. Not really, but I definitely am treading a thin line when it comes to the main thing on my mind: finding someone to share my air mattress with me. I don't know if there's room on my air mattress for my blog, too. So, I'm thinking I may have to kick it to the curb. I'm sad to say goodbye, but I don't want to get myself into trouble.

Reading: The Love of A Good Woman by Alice Munro
Listening: Books Written For Girls by Camera Obscura
Cider of the month: Angelica's Hot Mulled Cider

Rooting for the PBGV

if i could have a dog, it would be the pbgv. i love this hound. i saw my first one, named "mabel" on the street the other day. i said, "excuse me, is your dog part hound?" the owner was so sweet and let me pet and play with the dog for a while. mabel was such a lovebug. now, i'm hanging out at kimberley's, watching the national dog show and so far, the pbgv has won for best hound. what a perfect little fellow. i hope he wins best in show.

so far, this has been a very relaxing trip to boston. yesterday, mom and i shopped, drank tea, walked around cambridge, and ate good food.

today kimberley and dad are napping, mom is reading the paper, and i'm watching the dog show. finally, down-time.

List of activities:

Last night I left work at 5 pm.
Met my dad at my apartment and unpacked the rest of my things from his rental car, which he had driven to New York from Boston.
Then we walked around the East Village and had a big, Mexican feast at this great place called La Palapa (in between 1 and 2 on St. Marks), which he didn’t fail to point out is right across the street from one of his favorite theaters.
After dinner, we took a brisk, wintery walk to my workplace, where I showed off the basement and sub-basement, where I work. Basically, it’s an entire city block packed with boxes of books that have been donated. It’s a kind of paradise for people like us and my dad proceeded to flip out, as he weeded through piles of old books.
Then we came back to my house and hung out before sleeping (him on the air mattress and me on the floor with my sleeping bag and my cat on my pillow).

Wake up at 7:30 am and attempt to move my car for an hour with no luck. Leave the car in dad’s hands and run off to a half-day of work. Work. Leave work and help my father carry a bookshelf he found on the street from Soho to my apartment. Go eat another slice of Viva Natural Pizza with dad. Furniture shop for an hour and we only agree on one other item, another bookshelf. Carry this bookshelf from the Salvation Army (12th and 4th) back to my house, which is a lot farther when you’re carrying a bookshelf.

Pack, and go pick up a hot mulled cider from Angelika (not worth the wait at the juice bar), but there you have it.
I get in my car. My dad gets in his. We drive for a million hours to Hartford (the traffic is basically at the slowest crawl ever for over an hour in Connecticut). After hours of driving, we arrive at CarMax, where I sold my first and only car for an unspeakably low price. Goodbye, Lil Butt (my car), I will always love you. We ate fast food and felt sick. Then, I got into my dad’s rental car and we continued on from Hartford to Boston.

We got into Boston after about seven hours of travel. Said hi to my sister before she went to sleep. Talked a little with my mom. Then my mom and dad went to a hotel and I got into bed (where I am now) in Kimberley’s apartment.

I know this isn’t an interesting blog post and probably sounds like any number of other posts I’ve written recently, but that’s just the thing. All my days feel this mind-twirling and full. It’s just another whirlwind of 24 hours, where a million things get done, there’s still a million more things to do, and I feel excited by new steps and accomplishments in my new life.

It was really fun to show my dad my life in New York. It still has not sunk in that I’m really doing it. And having visitors only reinforces my excitement. As he would say, the novelty has definitely not worn off.

I’m excited about: not sleeping on the floor tonight, not sleeping on an air mattress tonight, getting a full night’s sleep with no alarm to wake me, seeing my family, getting a little rest and relaxation before going back to New York on Friday morning.

*One of my favorite car ride moments: Seeing all the stars in the clear sky between Hartford and Boston.
*Tonight’s shout outs: Super hero father for moving all the rest of my stuff to New York, carrying bookshelves around town with me, lots of good conversation, paying for great food, and driving through horrible traffic just for his spoiled daughter; Tara’s father who is in recovery after a bicycle accident; Davide for the book recommendation, which I am saving for my train ride home; and Robert for being a super friendly/welcoming next door neighbor.
*Song of the night: Crush by Grace Jones

What Is Wrong With People?

This forward came from the director of my MFA program, Totally grossed out. The word that comes to mind is "loathsome:"

A call for submissions and personally invite you and your creative writing students to submit their work for consideration in an upcoming poetry anthology titled Cadence of Hooves: A Celebration of Horses. The focus of the anthology aims to consider the relationship between humans and horses. This relationship is sometimes direct, sometimes more oblique, and sometimes very magical—personal interpretation of this theme is welcome.
This project is supported by a one-time grant from California State University, Chico.


I went to this young designer's expo this morning. Very cool, but pricey. It's errand morning (already purchased: one spnge mop made of the real spongey stuff, more cereal, baby carrots, more soy milk, and a welcome mat) and then I'm having a fun evening that is going to be filled with alpacas (don't ask, unless you want to), maybe Angelika Kitchen, and late night movie-watching. At least that's the tentative plan.

Fell in love with another person last night. She's very pretty. And smart. But she may be moving to Delhi for work. She gave me her card. That's a first. Maybe I shouldn't say more in case she somehow finds my blog.

Pressing question of the morning: Where should I get my haircut? I haven't found a friend with a haircut that I love in the city. Or with hair like mine. Nobody has hair like mine, what with all the frizz and curl but then also the thinness.

pooped

wow, i'm really feeling it. all this movement/change is hitting hard. i've been having such a good time and loving (almost) every day, but nights like tonight, i can barely make it across my apartment. that's not an exaggeration, the bathroom looks really far from where i'm lying in bed.

my friend Isaiah suggested this cool food by mail exchange and tomorrow is the last day to sign up. I decided to try it out. The basic idea is that you're paired with a kind of not-so-secret-santa-blogger and you exchange food by mail. I'm not an incredible cook, though I'm not bad with the baked goods, so hopefully I'll be paired with someone who likes chocolate.

I hung out with Tara last night. We ate at Viva Natural Pizza on 2nd (my first, but certainly not last visit) and after walking under umbrellas but still getting wet during a downpour, we got drinks at Doc Holliday's Bar. It was really good to catch up and discuss similar experiences we're having. She's one of my oldest friends and this is the first time in our lives that we've lived in the same city. It's really amazing to finally get this opportunity. Plus, we live within walking distance. I'm curious to see how we'll end up being friends, since for years, we've only seen each other when we were in the same city for a week or so, so the time spent together was very concentrated and structured. I had to keep telling her that we have to try to remember we live in the same city now and can be the kind of friends that get to see each other regularly.

today was the housing works thanksgiving lunch party. it was held at this huge space and was bumping. the music was good, the food was good, the crowd was jovial. good times. it's weird to work for a place that is constantly having events. tonight this silly white girl hip-hop group called Northern State was performing upstairs in the bookstore. i'm about as anti-white hip-hop as a white person can be, and i was grossed out by the whole thing, but some of the events are worth checking out. this was not one of them.

i need rest. i've slacked on my writing since moving to new york and i'm feeling pretty guilty about it. my goal is to get back into it when i come back to new york after thanksgiving in boston. let's hope i follow through.

tonight i'm going to relax on the old air mattress with my book, "Easter Parade," and some old school tom waits on the itunes.

get me to a dance floor and fast

fell in love with a gay boy today. well, a 40 year old, doesn't really count as a boy. same taste in books, european, good things like this. he's very unavailable and leaving the country in a month, but still a girl can dream.

tonight, reaffirmed my disdain for live comedy. it's been 14 year since my last attempt at attending a comedy show. should have stuck with my instincts. but tried to keep reminding myself: what's one night of bad comedy to keep a good friend company?

notice no use of "i" in this post to indicate myself. because of sleepiness. it's just 11:30, but being that this is really only my second normal day of life here, feels like there's a lot of catching up on sleep to do.

my coworkers have found a new radio station. fantastic, unbelievable, and makes the day go so much faster. sorry jt fans, but it's so good to not hear "i'm bringing sexy back" 200 times a day. so good. this new station mixes 80s songs with techno music. you have no idea how much more dancing we're doing as we stare at our computer screens.

today's consumption:
3 cups of coffee
1 cup of relax tea
1 big bowl of cereal (kashi's vive)
1 gigantic honey crisp apple
1 trader joe's apple sauce
1 over-priced but tasty chicken wrap
1 glass of merlot
not enough water

reading: "Easter Parade" by Richard Yates
listening: "Railroad Man" by Eels

p.s. is it the new cool thing to have a bar or restaurant that's so obscure that no website exists for the place? i'm noticing a trend.

changing cell phone plans/dance til you can't, dance til you can't, dance no more

cingular just isn't cutting it. sometimes it's really solid, but a lot of the time in my apt. is spent finding a better place to talk. those of you who know new york, what's your suggestion? one friend insists on verizon, but i was researching last night and saw a site with way more verizon complaints than cingular. help me make a good choice. i'll keep asking friends in the city, too. but if you have suggestions, by all means...




on an entirely different note, since we've been discussing oberlin so much, maybe we should have an old school sco party in new york. try to reconstrcut the goodness that was the sco or something. i haven't ironed out the details but it could be fun.
although thinking about it now, it is probably best to keep it in the past.


things are still good and busy. loving the job and the apartment and being in the city.

24 hours and counting...

Yesterday at 7, I went out with Matt M and his mom. Hello! Matt and I haven't seen each other in five frickin' years. He's almost finished with architecture school (following the bob and denise dream) AND he now has a tattoo and stretched ears. Can you believe it? We had a nice, Mexican dinner in the east village full of repressed conversation and pleasantries. Then we dropped his mom off at Grand Central and began a fabulous night of drunken gallavanting. Sloshed. We got sloshed.
[One fun highlight was that I accidentally ran into the guy who is now playing Tarzan while he was signing autographs.]

Anyway, Matt and I did it up right. We went to the only great bar near Times Square, Collins Bar, which I had been to a year or so ago with Kim, who works near there.



We picked out an amazing jukebox set, but I don't think they ever got to ours (and now I can't remember any of it). I love Matt!!! How can you not? Shout out shout out!!

How perfect is it that we live so close and soon he's maybe/hopefully going to start interning in New York?! Forget Philly, man, you've got to come live here. It would be so fun! Matt has gotten taller too! I didn't think that was possible. (I know this is not a very cohesive blog post, but look at how things have been. Cohesiveness is so far down on my list.)

Then around 3 in the morn, we said our goodbyes, (but not for long) and got on separate trains: him back to philly, me back to boston.

I passed out on the train, rocking to my embarassing ipod tunes and got back to kimberley's at 9ish. Then I slept for two hours before loading up my car with all my crap and driving with Kimberley and Cornelius in the pouring rain all the way back to new york.

Why does it feel like everyday is like this? These are such good times, it's ridiculous.

I'm back in the apartment. Kimberley is sleeping, Cornelius is wanting food, and I'm dazed and confused.

Really good news: only 10 or so more boxes of my stuff is in boston. I'm not travelling until Thanksgiving, so I can finally settle in a little. I'm really looking forward to downtime. And now I can see more New York people who I haven't had time to connect with. I am loving my apartment by the by. Cornelius seems at home already.

Oh, Matt! If you read this, I think it's Klaus Deboer. Right?

song that most represents my life right now: One Place by Everything But the Girl

p.s. i discovered that matt shares my love and adoration for grace jones. how much do we so want to follow her around and learn everything? ohhh! a grace jones internship would be heaven!

Check this completely genius video of "i'm not perfect (but i'm perfect for you)." some of you may know i grew up with a huge keith haring obsession. this is totally the best of both worlds.

I Hope I'm Not Becoming Obnoxious. It's Like I'm Happy And I Don't Know How To Handle All This Happiness...

Today:
Wake up at 7 am.
Shower and take one suitcase (no wheels), one backpack, one air mattress, and one laptop bag from Queens to my new home. Drop everything off and inflate mattress/buy toilet paper.
Walk to work. Work.
Set up for big party at work. This is a party to encourage publishers to donate to the store and to thank them for all they’ve done.
Attend party. Feel like I can’t move because there are so many people at the party.
Squeeze out the door.
Walk home.

Buy cereal!!!!

(I still don't have any bowls or utensils, so I'm going to borrow stuff from work. But you know how much I've been wanting cereal. This is such an indicator of the beginning of being grounded in one place.)

And I got honeycrisp organic apples and pumpkin spice granola. (The grocery store on the corner is amazing. I feel like I've been living in Russia rather than Queens. The choices in the East Vill. are endless.)

Got into pajamas and lie down on air mattress for: journal writing, apple and pumpkin spice granola eating, talking on the phone, and blogging.

I feel so fortunate. No matter how chaotic my life feels, I am also constantly aware of how incredibly lucky I am.
I can’t get over how good this all feels. Every day is an adventure. I’ve never felt like that. I want to write more about how all of this living is changing me and teaching me, but right now, I just need to make lists of activities like the one above.

One thing I’ve noticed is that for once, I’m thriving in this stress. There’s so much to do and so many transitions and I’m 89 percent gleeful. That’s new for me.

Tonight is my first night in my very own apartment. Enchantment.

With love and solipsisim, Heidi

Remember how a few days ago I said I don’t like to read books more than once because I panic about wasting time? I must contradict myself. I’m on the train heading back to New York (sixth trip in two months) and I’ve just reread the “Heidi Chronicles”.

Maybe it doesn’t count because it’s not a book book, but a play book, so it’s a faster repeat. Maybe. Because Kim said I’ve always been Heidi and she’s always been Susan, I was desperate to find out who we are (in real life and in theater life).

Susan is “wild, practical, and fifty-percent rayon.”
Heidi is part of a “generation of disappointed women. Interesting, exemplary, even sexy, but basically unhappy. The ones who open doors usually are.”

So this is our destiny. Kim and I read a play in high school English class, way back in arts school; two girls with no idea that our lives would converge again, ten years later in New York. And she’s right. Maybe not exactly right. But the play is about dreams/settling, being unable to avoid idealism, more often than not feeling the disappointment of not having it all, and ultimately finding hope.

But here’s the clincher: Heidi ends up a single mother of an adopted baby and finds herself happy enough. I don’t think I’m ready to be situated between happy and unhappy just yet. (Entitled, yes, but don’t I get points for honesty?) Is happy enough the only choice in the end?

Wow, these train rides really bring out the nostalgia. I’m sitting in the quiet car (no cell phones, HOORAY!) and the rain-streaked windows mixed with pitch black scenery except for moments of street lights and smeared red car lights all equal an inevitable pensive mood. I’m thinking about that high school English class. Reading Equus, Beloved, Dante’s Inferno, The Iliad, Heidi Chronicles. What else? Plath. Our teacher loved Plath. We were a bunch of prematurely jaded kids with an enabling bohemian teacher. Makes me want to seek out all my old classmates who now live in New York and have a reunion.

I was a floater, friends with the artsy folk, the depressed druggies, the fringe of the fringe (Kim), the nerdy than the other nerds kids, the popular girls. Parts of me were all of them. And then other parts of me didn’t belong to any of them. Simultaneously, I had lots of friends and no friends at all. And now all these people are characters I carry with me, and some of them make it into my stories. Who else but a writer thinks that other people are there as extensions of themselves, their greatest benefit being that they can be subjects in fiction? A solipsist through and through.

My trip to see Kimberley was too short. I’ll see her again this Sunday when I go back to Boston to pick up Cornelius, my boxes, my sister, and my car. We’re driving a bunch of my things to my new apartment.

In two days, I move into my new place. “Don’t be scared. Don’t believe you’re all alone” just sang on my IPod. A good sign.

I don’t want to be a conductor, but I might not mind riding this train back and forth between Boston and New York regularly. My brain calms down and everything starts to take shape. I thought I would be afraid of being alone, but moments like these, I honestly love it.
The motion of the train = moving forward.
The four hours sitting in one place = opportunities for deep breaths.

Once again, we’ve arrived at New Haven.

Love,
Heidi

Song of the day: The Shoop Shoop Song (see “Heidi Chronicles” and Gili’s performances as Cher at Florida’s Sunfest Festival in 1991? and numerous family Bat-Mitzvahs including my own.)

Note to Riva: I figured out why we love Munro’s “Lives of Girls and Women” so much. It’s like reading a children’s/young adult book that’s written for adults. Do you know what I mean?

too much breathing

I just promised my mentor that I'll try to take 40 deep breaths each day. I think I may be shooting too high.

Train Ramblings

I’m on the train, heading back to Boston. I was on the phone until 2 in the morning with Riva. She was yelling at me about television. She wasn’t really yelling AT me. Just full of passion. That’s my Riva.

Listening to “Useless Desire” by Patty Griffin and revising my story. My last submission is in and my critique came back. I’m really going to miss working with my mentor but here’s where I’m supposed to say, “Every mentor will have a new and valuable perspective that I can learn from.” Now I just have to believe it.

I’m reading the Sunday Times, too. When I’m finished with a section, I pass it over to the fellow sitting across the aisle and he seems shocked by my willingness to share. At first he refused to take the paper, but I explained to him that I’m DONE with it; it’s okay.

We just arrived at Bridgeport, CT. Connecticut is really weird. I kind of think this country doesn’t need it. Maybe Connecticut should become its own kingdom, with a queen and with its own laws. Maybe the U.S. could strike a deal with Connecticut and make it the special kingdom where all chain stores are located. Starbucks, J. Crew, Banana Republic, and Walmart would have to close down all over the country and open up exclusively in CT. Maybe I’ll write to Bush and see what he thinks.

G-D, I love the train. I love the opportunity to get lost in thought, to spend three and a half hours alone with nothing to distract me from my writing and reading except the scenery. (Okay, that’s a little glorified considering all the cell phone use that I have to tune out by blasting my IPod.) But still, this is one of the prettiest rides. What does it do to my brain when the trees are orange and red? I’ve moved to a beautiful coast!

Speaking of cell phones, I think there should be a National It’s Against The Law To Use Cell Phones In Public Unless It’s An Emergency Day. Sure, people would lose money and valuable corporate time, but who cares? I don’t. Finally, peace and quiet. No, I don’t care what you did last night or what you’re going to do with a client’s stocks. I really don’t. Whatever happened to using your inside voice? My holiday could be called CRIMP-OD: Citizens Regaining Innocence from Mobile Phones Overuse Day.

I can’t wait to see Kimberley and Cornelius. I’ve been having such a good time staying at Kim’s, meeting people at my new job, and running around New York, but I don’t feel grounded. I won’t be moving into my place until next week (the ninth), so I’m still living the nomad’s life. But that’s going to be over soon. I have never lived alone and I’m really excited about having my own space to write, read, dance, scream, sing, walk around naked, make myself tea and coffee (maybe even crumpets. I’m not sure exactly what crumpets are, but it sounds like something a single woman would have with her tea and reading). I kid you not when I say that I’m also excited to have my own place so I can have a bowl of cereal in the morning. I haven’t been eating breakfast in New York and I miss my Heart to Heart. My health has been placed on the back burner (can one place health on a back burner?) and I’m ready to place it back in the deep fryer (how’s that for a misuse of an analogy?).

Last night, I feel in love on the subway. It’s so easy to fall in love with strangers, you know? I was heading back to Queens and there was this boy, drawing in his sketchpad. Things I liked about him:
1. Serious face
2. Pleasantly round with cute glasses
3. Sketching with intensity (His special drawing pens were bundled in a rubber band.)
4. Carrying an old school Nokia cell phone, just like mine. (Nobody has these in New York, so I’m authentically vintage and so was my subway amor.)
5. Unpretentious in dress and accessories (see number four).
I ripped out a page from my journal and wrote, “If you’re straight and single, call me. Why not?” Then I added my name and number. I was going to give it to him when I got off at my stop or slip it to him if he got off before me, but here’s where things went wrong: we got off at the same stop! How could I give it to him and make a getaway? So, I let him go. The note went in the trash. Still he’ll always have a place in my heart, my subway amor. I’m sure there will be others. My heart is a romantic one. A girl with dreams. Maybe I create the world around me that I want to believe in.

We’ve arrived in New Haven.

New York Songs of the Morning: “You Said Something” by PJ Harvey and “New York, New York,” by Ryan Adams

Mountain Dew = Drink of Death

Remember my Mountain Dew overdose? Click here to learn how much of the drink I would have to ingest to die.

According to this website, it would have taken me 179.93 cans of Mountain Dew to be killed.
This link also lists how much caffeine (of any kind) you need to drink in order to stop living. Thanks to Sara's blog, I'm now in the know about the dangers of caffeine. I think it's 90 cups of coffee that would finally do me in.

(Some of you may recall that I had hallucinations of bunnies trying to eat me and people climbing into my window during my Mountain Dew overdose. I haven't touched the stuff since the incident, which happened in college.)

More on New York soon.

*Song of the Day: Girlfriend in a Coma
*Book of the Day: Back In The World by (who else?) Tobias Wolff
*Horoscope of the Day: Rob Brezsny says, "Identify some aspect of your life you tend to regard as inadequate or insufficient, and redefine it to be an asset."
*Expression of the Day: "Cat Got Your Tongue," of which Kim and I have been trying to learn the origins, since we discovered that one of her cats has a tongue thrust.

The Reading Life

I love this comic from the perry bible fellowship (click to enlarge):



Sometimes, when I’m reading, I start to panic. I worry that I’m wasting time on a book that doesn’t deserve the small amount of time I have on this planet. It’s like finding a temporary lover and they’ve got to be good and interesting and exciting or it just ends up being a time-suck. I want to cherish every book I read and my patience is getting smaller. I used to insist on finishing every book I started (which came to a sudden halt after suffering through all of “Sons and Lovers”), but now, it’s 100 pages and then if I haven’t found redemption, I’m on to the next (unless it’s a school thing).

Today, I found out how attached I get to a good book. As I finished the last twenty pages of Tobias Wolff’s “Old School,” I actually had tears in my eyes and may have shed one or two. The ending wasn’t sad, but the fact that the book was coming to an end was tragic. I wanted at least 100 more pages. Tomorrow, I’m going to get another book by him. It’s like I’m going to have more Wolff on the rebound, after having a relationship with him (twice, since I read two different books and loved them both). The only flaw in the analogy is that I loved him, so why would I have broken up with him in order to now be in this rebound situation?

I’m also not a fan of reading books more than once. Passages, sure, but not full books. That’s another fear: That while I’m reviewing, I’m missing out on something new. Some people have a fear of missing out when it comes to socializing. Mine applies to reading.

New York: Day Two

While I was walking to get my TB test today near Christopher Street, I ran into the short-statured man from “Station Agent,” Peter Dinklage. I thought of saying something to him, but I’m too shy and I was star-struck, so I just looked the other way as we passed each other. I had just seen him on a PBS documentary when I was in Boston. On the documentary, his manager was talking about how women don’t feel comfortable saying he’s sexy because he’s a little person. I think he’s sexy. Kim thinks I should have told him. Next time.

Kim, Umber, and I went to see the remake of “The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari” at The Pioneer Theater for Halloween. It was fabulously boring and I almost fell asleep more than once. That might have been because first we ate mussels, fancy mac n cheese, and drank a bottle of wine. Or maybe it was the chocolate cupcake with chocolate frosting that I shoveled down during the film. I think polarchip would have really enjoyed seeing the movie, but I’m just not enough of an obscure movie buff. Plus, I know this film has all this historical weight, what with its not so obscure references to Germany being asleep while Hitler took control, but I’m not sure why they remade it. Still, it was my favorite Halloween ever, which isn’t really saying much since I usually hate Halloween.

Umber and I bonded over our Chorus Line obsession. She grew up watching the movie over and over too. She doesn’t share my attraction to Michael Douglas, but then, who does?

My favorite free New York activity (this also applies to other cities) is following random people around the city. I’ve been spending a lot of time chasing after strangers as they weave through the streets. This is a great way to get exercise and get my mind in a writer’s mood because I make up personal histories and like to guess about where people are headed. I’m not always right, and sometimes I lose track of folks before they reach their final destination, but it keeps me busy.

Tobias Wolff is once again one of my favorite authors. My semester is mostly over, but I hadn’t had enough of him, so I’m reading “Old School.” His style reminds me of a much better/refined version of my own.

Because my job won’t start for a few days, I might head back to Boston tomorrow after my TB test results. I want to see poor Cornelius (who is not happy about my absence) and my beloved sister, Kimberley (who is not happy about my absence, though I think she is probably not displaying her disappointment in the same ways as Corny).

The weather is gorgeous. The city is gorgeous. I love New York. Love it.

*New York song of the day (this is a new category): Alphabet Street by my fellow Minneapolisian, Prince

I GOT THE JOB!!!!

Okay, folks! I'm going to be working at the raddest nonprofit doing computer-type stuff! Starting tomorrow (maybe?) I'm going to be fully employed at Housing Works.

Here's their website for those who aren't familiar:
http://www.housingworks.org/

I'm really happy to be employed by such a great organization!

On a really sad note, a woman in my MFA program, who I didn't know, passed away this morning from chemo complications. Though I am not sure if I got the chance to meet her, her family is in my thoughts.

On another note, I'm hanging out in Queens with Kim and it's so cool that we're going to live near each other once again. She told me that I'm like Heidi from "The Heidi Chronicles" and she's like Susan. This doesn't mean anything to me since we haven't read this play since high school, but I'm still happy to be in a play with Kim, even if it's only in our imagination. So with my free-time (will I actually have any?) I'm going to refresh myself on that great play.

I already miss Kimberley so much! I know she's only four hours away, but Boston feels like another planet to me. I could not have been more supported or loved and I'm so glad we had the time together. She's a best friend to me. Hopefully, we'll see each other this coming weekend.

Finally, I love you all and will be more in touch now that the job thing is squared away. I'm off to eat lunch and write, write, write.

Supposedly We're In The Middle Of A Nor'Easter

The rain started last night. This might be my first experience with a nor’easter, although I remember being in Massachusetts at summer camp in the early 90s during Hurricane Bob. I don’t know if that was connected to a nor’easter. I’ve certainly had my share of hurricanes, what with growing up in Florida.

Previous to my last trip to New York (two days ago), I was suffering panic attacks and I entertained myself by reading this validating article on caffeine, my drug of choice.
http://www.benbest.com/health/caffeine.html

My favorite part was when they address anxiety head-on:
“There can be considerable individual variation in the response to caffeine. People with high anxiety tend to consume less caffeine. Those who report anxiety due to caffeine usually do not report heightened-alertness, and vice-versa. People who normally consume large amounts of caffeine report more positive mood changes compared to those who consume the caffeine only as part of an experiment. Extroverts show performance improvement with caffeine when doses are large, whereas introverts show performance impairments on large doses.”

I don’t know what the above paragraph means. None of their scientific explanations are spelled out. I mean, how do you know if you have "high anxiety" or what is a large/small caffeine intake? And who decides what makes a person an extrovert/introvert? It’s a mystery. All in all, I appreciate that whatever results I want to find, there’s a study that will prove my point. If I want coffee to be good for me, some scientist will agree it is.

I’m almost positive (99%) that I got the job. I’m really happy because it’s a good organization (read: not evil), I’ll still get to work with books, and I’m going to have good benefits. AND, it’s super closer to my new home. (According to my father, it’s .84 miles.) I don’t think it’s a great sign that I don’t understand if I’ve officially been given the job, but one step at a time.

To do before I leave for New York tomorrow night:
-Finish up most of my final submission work for the semester (I’m totally slacking on my work because I’m too hyped up from everything to settle down. But there’s the whole nor’easter thing, so I’m not leaving the house. Now would be a perfect time to work, if I could chill the heck out.)
-Make sure I have a place to stay
-Clip my fingernails
-Clean Cornelius’ litter box
-Try to stay calm
-A couple hours of belly dancing with Veena and Neena

Going to New York feels like I’m showing up really late to a party that I was supposed to attend years before. And I’ve finally picked out a good outfit, showered, and dressed. I’ll be arriving fashionably late, but hopefully the extra time has allowed me to better prepare for the fiesta.

Between where I’m living (East Village) and working (Soho), I feel like I’m reentering arts high school except on an enormous scale.

Moods are still all over the place. I suppose that will take time. Perhaps I will settle down when I turn 28 in six months? But if Saturn Return is going to hit me like another nor'easter, I'm in trouble. Although I'd like to believe that I started puberty early, so maybe I'm already in Saturn Return and it will end sooner for me.

I Think I Got The Job?!!!

I'm trying not to jump the gun, but I think I got the job. The people I interviewed with yesterday just called and left a message saying they were very impressed with me. They also sent me an email!

I need to call them back, but they need me to come in right away and I'm four hours away in Boston. (of course, they don't know I'm not in new york yet.) What the heck! I'm so overwhelmed. Plus, I am horribly behind on my school work. Oy Oy!

But I got the job...I mean, they didn't say that, but they want me to come in right away and I don't know why else I would have to come in.

Confusion! Excitement! More confusion!

Tell Me Everything I Need To Know

Please help!
I have a job interview on Thursday in New York (I can't say where because I don't want to jinx it) but I really need help with web stuff. If you know about the internet, please say so, and I will pick your brain. Please please please help.

Promises Made, Promises Broken

I promised myself I would read two hours of Cheever (and maybe finish him off) before internetting, but then, when have I ever followed though completely? Why be inconsistent now?

I feel like that emotional ESP us bloggers were having recently is back, but now it's related to having no time and tons to do and say. I've spent the past two days absorbed in my writing and I think I'm starting to notice some patterns I have when it comes to revision. I'm all about starting with a morsel, expanding to a point where I'm worried my stories are going to become novels, then contracting back to something close to the essence of the work.

My dreams have been vivid, which might be because I've had dairy (pizza) for the past couple of days. Usually I don't eat dairy. It's the only changed variable in my routine.

As I mentioned to a friend recently, I feel like moving to New York is asking to get a flogging. I mean, the west coast is such a leisurely life in so many ways. SF was about being coddled until I couldn't take it any more. The midwest was a year of living at a resort, where my obligations were few and the pressure of life was limited. But New York. New York is all about enjoying a good beating. I'm looking forward to it. (Not being sarcastic.)

I’ve started to think a lot about why I write. At first, I believed it had to do with my need to have a voice that’s my own in a world where there are so many voices. There’s something very colonizing about that. If I can have my say, then I’m alive. But then I started to think that the reason I write is because it’s much more gratifying than living. I’m not very good at being a person. I can fake it, but really, I don’t know how to do the things that people do. Or I feel awkward doing them. I’ve always felt like I’m on the outside, watching things happen but never being fully a part of them. But when I write, I have my own world that I’m fully included in and I have control over my characters (to some extent). It’s not that I always want to be in their world. It allows me to feel that all of my time spent observing the world around me without ever feeling like I’m completely in it is relevant and helpful in this one thing I do. I give myself permission to feel less troubled by my inability to fully be in the world because there’s another area of my life where I benefit from being on the outside.

Here's a favorite Cheever quote before heading off to bathe with my book... "Fifty percent of the people in the world are homesick all the time.... You don't really long for another country. You long for something in yourself that you don't have, or haven't been able to find."

Today I Performed A Mitzvah

1. You know how in health class or DARE class (you know, the drug prevention one that worked so well) there tends to be hand-outs with drawings in primary colors of little children helping old people across the street? I was just IN one of those drawings. I swear to you, I was walking home and this little old lady in a long blue coat with bright white hair asked me to help her cross the street. She had grocery bags and everything. I was smitten. I held her hand, which was my favotie part of the whole experience. She had soft, dry tiny hands. I was thinking about how once upon a time, this woman could have been a young hipster, too cool for school, and would never consider holding a stranger's hand. We started the long walk across the street to the bus stop. At one point I said, "Am I going too fast?" and she answered, "this is fine, just fine." I feel like I just crawled out of a Dick and Jane book. It was such a beautiful moment.

2. I've given up on the tranquil happiness thing. It's just not me.

3. I'm finally getting a lot of writing/revising going. Maybe it was too hard to buckle down while the seasons were still changing but now that it's undeniably fall, I feel a lot more settled in my work.

4. Today I signed the lease for real. It's happening.

5. Song right now: A Place Aside by Beth Orton

Sleepy Thoughts

Let’s face it, I’m never going to write that blog I promised from my trip to New York. I just am too tired and don’t feel like back-tracking.

So here’s what’s new since I’ve been back:

On the T there was a college-aged guy wearing a blogger t-shirt (it was blue with the website’s B logo in orange). I really wished I had a camera phone because he really embodied this whole site in my mind. He was dorky (reading what looked like a really nerdy book called Secret Parts of Fortune), with just a hint of coolness in his shaggy but groomed haircut. He had bad facial hair and no hair on his arms. I started wondering if it was a sign. Do I blog too much, am I turning into that much of a nerd, am I already that much of a nerd, does it matter? I wanted to go ask him if he worked for blogger and exchange blog addresses, but I also wanted to run in the opposite direction. All because of his t-shirt. And then I began thinking of other websites and wondering what people would look like if they were a website. What would hotmail look like or friendster or myspace or craigslist. I mean, we know what Craig from craigslist looks like, but he doesn’t really look like what I imagine the site would look like if it was a person. Do I look like a website? Which one? Etc.

New topic: Kimberley and Katherine (she’s also an Obie, which is weird. Is my whole world revolving around Oberlin suddenly?) baked me a surprise banana bread to celebrate my new home in New York. It was so sweet of them.

Today I talked to my friend, Kasey, who lives in Minneapolis, and it was so good to hear that he’s doing well and taking care of himself. I mean, I feel like he and I are both trying to learn to be alone (he also just got out of a four year relationship) and to do things that we love. The last time I talked to him, he wasn’t so hopeful and it’s nice to see him so actively involved in his art and to feel like he’s taking the reins of his life. It’s empowering to see other people working on making their lives better.

The hard thing is not letting go of the relationship. The hard thing is learning to be alone. On the train going to New York, I saw all these beautiful colors and trees and lakes and I realized that I can see them with my own eyes and absorb all of its essence and not ever share it with another person. These can be my own discoveries. I can read an amazing passage in a book and love it and I can choose to share it with another person or keep it as my own. I’m just so used to telling another person everything that happens in my life and in my brain that I’m kind of savoring all these private moments I get to have with myself. Do you know what I mean? It feels so new and good and sometimes it’s lonely but sometimes it’s just like reading under my comforter in the cold. I have no idea if that makes sense.

I walked outside this afternoon and there was another amazing package from Aimee. I loved the typed letter on the homemade paper, the homemade Cornelius toy, the paper cut-outs, the rock. It was perfect. (No surprise there.) I know you (Aimee) said you’re learning about receiving things without reciprocating and I think I do that too. I start to wonder about what I can give back right away. But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with that. I like the cycle, the exchange.

Tonight I went to Filene’s with Kimberley. They’ve been going out of business for months. I found this dress that’s long and dark brown (my favorite) and cotton and a little too big and has tiny straps. It’s like a long lightweight sundress. Originally it cost 56 dollars and the saleswoman sold it to me for 8 dollars because it was missing a sweater or something. I felt like she was giving me a present, just for taking it off her hands. I’m excited about lying around in it. I’m going to christen it my First New York Apartment Dress.

Today is my half birthday. Since I turned 27, so much has happened. Geographically, I've been to Minneapolis, Duluth, New York, Boston, Chicago, and back and forth between places a ridiculous amount of times. I've ended a relationship, lost a best friend, gained new friends, strengthened others, found a new home in New York, danced as hard as I could, read tons of books, written new work, applied to six billion jobs, and so much more. I can't believe how much has happened in six months. I'm curious (and a little frightened, but also excited) to see what the next six months will hold.

I’m still fighting this ridiculous cold (though it’s just lingering at this point) so I’m laying low tonight.