Driving Ms. Gili

Veronica is learning to drive. She drove once after she got her license in Romania about ten years ago, but she doesn't remember anything that she learned. She's taking lessons with a professional, and I've also offered my car to practice. This afternoon we met for our first lesson. Veronica was cautious; considerate of pedestrians, bikers, and other drivers; and she seemed comfortable behind the wheel. I'd like to take credit for Veronica's abilities, but I did little beyond offering encouragement.

I was so confident in Veronica's skills that I experimented with photography as she drove me around.

Next week, Veronica might drive faster than 25 mph. Look out, Brooklyn.

Approved!

Joseph and I (and the dog and cat) are moving on July 15th to a beautiful apartment close to McGolrick Park on the other side of Greenpoint from where we are now. We have spent all of our free-ish time searching for our dream home to put down roots and settle in for the unknown adventures, awaiting us. Our pursuit has led us to our new front door.

Additionally, we got along almost too well with our realtors and they've offered to let me shadow them for a few days to see if I'd like to begin a career in realty. I never imagined myself selling and renting property, but that won't stop me from giving it a try.

I don't remember the last time I felt this optimistic.

Binary Sunday

Joe and I started our day at Pride.


Even with all the corporate sponsorship, I'm still a sucker for Pride.


Like every other year, I get a little choked up at Pride, thinking about how far the queer community has come, even in my short lifetime.


And somehow I found the perfect partner to celebrate with me.


Everyone looked so fabulous.


We hardly had time to immerse ourselves in the fag-tastic-ness.


We had to leave one big queer wedding/fiesta to switch into our very straight roles, the life where I somehow attend straight weddings on Pride.


Joe's high school friend, Chris married his woman, Lisa in a very formal and traditional ceremony. They seem like very nice people.


I'm not sure I fit in, but then when do I blend with the mainstream?


There was a lot of minor attempts at being invested in an outmoded declaration of institutional romance when really I longed to go party down at Pride. I kept thinking how much my life has changed.


Dancing with Joe and having him by my side made the whole thing a lot less painful than I had anticipated. We've even decided to take zydeco lessons.


Happy straight solidification of your straighthood, exit from any gender or sexual confusion that may have arisen, clarity in the murky world of blurriness.


And to all my friends and family, Happy Pride!

Glimpses of brilliance in Brooklyn

At the park, an elderly man stood on a bench to get a closer look at the skaters, practicing nearby.

Why living here makes sense

Tonight, Nukah, Joseph, and I went for a walk and a picnic in the rain. It's going to be a hot summer with blips of relief during thunderstorms.

Our picnic: salami, goat cheese, and figs combined by my personal chef, Joseph.

Home, drying off. Now warm in bed for snuggling, hot cocoa, and comfort television.

Bliss.

home, sigh

Friday morning, Nukah and I moved back to the big city.

Joe and I hit the pavement, running full speed into our new/old lives. We spent a good chunk of the weekend apartment searching and mingling at the dog run. The move is going to be hardest on Nukah, who is mourning the separation from Halligan, Charlie, and the country life.

Listening to Broken Social Scene
Reading In the Land of Men by Antonya Nelson
Screening Ratcatcher
Searching for a black tie optional dress for next weekend's wedding
Keeping my promise by cutting my hair to match my poser-skater lifestyle

A happy foot

My last blog entry was super bleak. Give me this opportunity to start the summer on, dare I say, a happy foot. School is out, though I am obligated to come to school each day of this week to help clean up and restore order.

Joseph and I are developing Project Anti-Anxiety Summer 2010. Those of you who know me at all will understand what an undertaking this could prove to be. With determination and the stubbornness of a forest fire, I will prove you wrong. I expect a t-shirt or a medal if I pull this off.

Friday is my last day upstate for a while (forever?). This coming weekend marks my Brooklyn homecoming. It will be sad to leave the country life, particularly for Nukah, who is currently living in doggy heaven. On the other hand, Joseph and I will be in the same place. We are making our way, demanding the right to be together, insisting upon an “us”.

This year, I continued to learn:

It’s okay to let other people hold me up, hold my hand, share my life.

It’s okay to need people and to let people need me.

It’s okay to be good at some things and not as good at others.

I can see things all the way through.

I am not a failure at life.

I am not a team player.

Seriousness must be balanced with silliness.

I don’t need the seasons; in fact, I’d prefer fewer seasonal type things like, let's say, winter.

Life is less lonely when you share it with people with the same sense of humor.

(This is what I meant in an earlier blog post when I said I would thank my family and friends later. Thank you, family and friends.)

Vermont is not for me.

Every ounce of energy has been sucked out of me over this school year. As a parting gift, I was forced to go on an end-of-the-year school trip to Vermont with nineteen bratty teenagers.


These are students who don't deal well with lack of structure, so we decided it would be wise to spend four days trying to micromanage their behavior out in public.


The worst part of this is that Vermont doesn't seem to believe in the importance of coffee.


Yesterday I dragged myself from activity to activity, never caffeinated, while I was under orders to pretend to care about the fate of the students.


I have about sixty report cards to write by Monday morning; I don't see how that's going to happen.


As usual, the teachers' needs are undermined by the whims of the administration. Wouldn't it be fun to make the teachers suffer on their final days? I want to be voted off the island.


We ran into this little kid, hiking in dog pajamas- definitely a highlight.


Today is our final day before the long trip back tomorrow morning. At least this evening I get to hang out with my old friend, Abbey in Burlington.

Adjusting to the elements

Joseph and I spent Saturday on Jones Beach with three of my coworkers.


He won the prize for burn victim though he did wear (and reapply) sunscreen.


Courtney, Heidi, and Vicky weren't quite as sun seared, but Vicky experienced a sand scratch on her cornea, so I think she suffered the most.


It's going to be a fabulous summer!

Puppy bliss

Nukah and I are staying at Riva's parents' home for the next couple of weeks.


I can't think of a more heavenly place to be a dog.


Charlie is still figuring out Nukah.

I associate Riva's home with sleep. It's almost impossible to be stressed when I'm there.

Reflecting on the life of Louise Bourgeois

"Art is a guarantee of sanity."

“When you go from painting to this, it means you have an aggressive thought. You want to twist the neck of a person. I became a sculptor because it allowed me to express … what I was embarrassed to express before.”

"Art is manipulation without intervention."

"Everywhere in the modern world there is neglect, the need to be recognized, which is not satisfied. Art is a way of recognizing oneself, which is why it will always be modern."

"Sometimes it is necessary to make a confrontation – and I like that."

"What interests me is the conquering of the fear, the hiding, the running away from it, facing it, exorcising it, being ashamed of it, and, finally, being afraid of being afraid."

"My work disturbs people and nobody wants to be disturbed. They are not fully aware of the effect my work has on them, but they know it is disturbing."

"From the beginning I was an overachiever. That is to say, if you flatter me, or if you look at me the right way, I will kill myself to please you. It's very painful to be an overachiever."

"An artist can show things that other people are terrified of expressing."