Three-ish years, on beauty

Joseph sent flowers to me for our three-ish year anniversary. The best surprise is that he's coming up to be with me this evening.

Three years ago, we went out on our first date. Joe picked me up from work. I handed him a piece of chocolate cake that someone had made for my birthday. He didn't ask about why I gave him cake; he just started wolfing it down. We went to Cafe Habana in Soho where I nervously grilled him about his life story. I only knew fragments from our mutual friend. Then Joe and I had drinks at La Palapa and went to IFC to see a screening of Killer of Sheep. I remember that Joe described the movie as beautiful and I liked that he was so comfortable using that word.

I love you, Joseph. You help me see beauty.
You are beautiful.

hodgepodge

I'm mourning the end of my glorious break, filled with big city adventures, familiar faces, art museums, cinema saturation, and puppy excursions. Summer, hurry up!

I promised Riva that I wouldn't dress Nukah in ridiculous outfits. Joe and I decided that this sweater, which was on sale at a dog store in the city, did not count as "ridiculous." Maybe Riva disagrees? This evening I put Nukah in the sweater for a fashion shoot and he peed all over my bed while he was wearing it. I guess he thinks it's ridiculous, too.

At times, Joseph can be a bit forgetful. For once, this is working in my favor because he left his wallet upstate this morning and traveled back to the city without it. This means I get to see him again tonight.

While visiting the Biennial at Whitney, I developed a new career idea. I'd like to write curriculum for an independent study project for high school seniors, an alternative to attending school. This would be a program specific to New York, where students met with a leader/mentor/teacher each day at museums, galleries, art studios, and visited with artists, curators, and museum educators. The students would learn math, science, and English through an artistic lens and the academics would be specific to which exhibitions and artists were available. Each parent and student would receive a big binder of lesson plans and homework assignments, so that they could follow along at home. I envision that this program would be like a magnet school, where students apply and based on their ability to be self-motivated, driven by learning, and passionate about the arts, they would be accepted. This project would take an enormous amount of financial backing and time to launch, but I imagine that I could really be invested in working on this.

Another reason why I love Cher

The BBC Reports:

Cher's son Chaz Bono has asked a judge in Los Angeles to formally change his name and gender following the sex change surgery he had last year.

The 41-year-old, who was born Chastity Sun Bono, now wants to be known as Chaz Salvatore, according to a petition filed earlier this week.

He revealed last June he had undergone the surgery calling it "the best decision I've ever made".

At the time, Cher promised to support her child on his "difficult journey".

"Although I may not understand, I will strive to be understanding," said the singer, who had Chastity with her first husband, the late Sonny Bono, in 1969.

Chaz Bono is a gay rights campaigner.

Family affair

Today in the West Village, Nukah made a new friend, Sherlock, a basset from the same breeder in Pennsylvania as the one where we adopted Nukah. Sherlock is two years old with one brown and one blue eye. He's from a different set of parents, but his roots are the same. It seemed like there was some familial recognition between the two puppies.

I'm happy that Nukah had the opportunity to reconnect with his past. Sherlock's owner told us that he was her fourth basset. I asked her if she had any tips for training; she said she didn't, that bassets are impossible to train.

Maybe some day Nukah will have a baby sister from the same breeder. I've already picked out her name: Copernicus, in memory of Cornelius.

Right about now

Rain finally moved on.
Now that it's dry outside, I'm going to explore the dog-run options in the city. Wacky owners = wacky dogs.
Nukah has learned to climb up to the fourth floor in Joe's walk-up apartment; still no way he'll consider climbing down.
The puppy will finally get to see what it's like to live the good life today when we lunch at Matt's.
My mantra as a dog owner is: Nothing stays clean; everything is dirty; I don't need to buy anything.
Joe's 60 Second Film Festival was a success.
Revising a personal essay (ew, I hate that category) with the hopes of being able to continue to call myself a writer.
Marina Abramović (image below) and William Kentridge (image above) are worth feeling like a cow in the herd at MOMA.

Coney Island Puppy

Firsts for Nukah:
-Coney Island
-Ocean
-Found crab
-Big sandy beach

Meeting my goal

Spring break, Brooklyn-style: as soon as we arrive, I cry a little bit about how much I miss the city. Nukah visits the dog run and tries to charm all of the other dogs and people. We head to Joseph's apartment for Mac n' Cheese and a little Gilmore Girls before regrouping.

Main goal for my week off: live it up.

So far, so good.

Sachi and Nukah, BFF

After a week apart because of Nukah's surgery,


Sachi


and Nukah


reunited.


Sachi's back on top, which seems absolutely fine with Nukah.

I'm happy when Nukah's happy. It's a simple life for me.

Contextomy

According to Wikipedia, "The practice of quoting out of context, sometimes referred to as 'contextomy' or 'quote mining', is a logical fallacy and type of false attribution in which a passage is removed from its surrounding matter in such a way as to distort its intended meaning."

The longer I live away from the city, the more out of context I feel. But maybe it's a fallacy to believe that there is a right and a wrong place to be. Maybe if I could look at myself from a greater distance, I would realize that where I am makes the most sense and matches who I am. Immediately, upon typing that last sentence, I am disturbed by the notion that this place ultimately suits me.

I am getting in the way of writing. I am standing in my own way.

A writer is someone who writes.

Begin to cure location/identity crisis by looping Calling Out of Context by Arthur Russell.

Nature (is for) lovers?

Joseph and I spent the warmest weekend this year sojourning with the natural world.


We hiked 2.5 miles up to the top of Overlook Mountain where I discovered that the anxious apple doesn't fall far from the tree: like my father, I am afraid of heights.


The very best part was the descent.


This past week, Nukah turned six months. To celebrate Nukah and also Joseph (because it was time), we went to the lighthouse where Cornelius' ashes were scattered.


We ate all of Joe's favorites: salami, cheese, Triscuits, old man candy, coconut water, coffee, and baby carrots.

Eyes on the Prize

Nukah and I skipped town today for some desperately needed hookie playing. We went for a long hike in the warm, early day sun.

Yesterday I suffered through my second set of Parent-Teacher Conferences. This day surpassed the first round in the category of horrible family encounters. Actually, there was only one horrible family encounter, but it was enough to make me cry uncontrollably when I finally arrived home in the evening. I've put up with a lot of abuse at school and this week was no exception.

The past is behind me and I'm thankful for that.

I've been thinking a lot about a quote from a great article in the New York Times Book Review, which states, "Anything processed by memory is fiction." A mother who came to see me yesterday (one of the ones who is not horrible, but is a mess), was talking about her daughter, who is in 7th grade. This little girl has been through a great deal of difficult circumstances including losing her father and watching her mother suffer and eventually recover from drug/alcohol abuse. Anyway, her mother told me that her daughter has a lot of "anger issues". According to her mom, the problem is the way her daughter perceives things. She mentioned several times that her daughter's perceptions are wrong. She tries to tell her daughter this, which only angers the little girl more. I mentioned that we all see and experience reality in our own way.

I was thinking about how disempowering it is to take away this little girl's memories and thoughts, or at least to discount them. These ideas are real for her. We all tell stories and create fictions in order to process and understand deeper truths. Fiction is not untrue. Underneath the surface story, when fiction is "honest," it is absolutely truth. If anything, this encounter with the mother made me realize how crucial it is for me to validate her daughter's experience of the world.

Next week, we spend the school days leading community service trips. In two weeks, I'm on Spring Break.

New Our Bodies, Ourselves

Nukah returned from surgery looking happy as ever. Doctor's orders were for Nukah to take it easy, not to engage in rough play, and not to exercise for the week. The puppy has been a bit stir crazy (as I write this, Nukah is munching on my tushy). His best puppy friend, Satchi came by to visit, but Nukah can't go out and play until all of his wounds (at least the physical ones) are healed.

Thanks to everyone for sending well wishes!

National Nukah Gets Neutered Day

Tomorrow, Nukah is visiting the mohel. He's getting the big snip.

Poor guy, doesn't know what's coming.

Apparently, there's an alternative, so that Nukah doesn't have to feel like he's less of a man. Neuticles provides pet owners with a "safe, practical, and inexpensive option." According to their website, "It's like nothing ever changed." I'm not sure Nukah would agree.

"Bob Barker reminding you to help control the pet population. Have your pet spayed or neutered. Bye-bye."

Prison break

Good news:
The snow seems to be gone for good.

Bad news:
No more snow days.

This week I've been daunted and stalked by the task of writing 43 report cards, which are due on Thursday morning; torture is inescapable. I'm on trimester and semester schedules, which means I have to write fifteen sets of report cards this year. The operative word is "endless".

Now that it's spring, all sorts of animals are coming out of the woodwork including the town weirdos. I'm keeping a close watch on Nukah; I don't want him to fall under the wrong influence.

Every morning, I wake up listening to the theme song from Northern Exposure, thanks to Joe's genius present. And every day I am more and more convinced that I'm living in Cicely, Alaska.

Ninety-six more days until school is out, but who's counting?

Four Year Blog Anniversary

March 7, 2006 I began this blog. A million things have changed since then.

What's stayed the same?

I still try to surround myself with the people I love. Reading, writing, and movies are still my main interests. I still want to live in a houseboat and own a bookstore.


To finish my long weekend in New York, Joseph and I visited Veronica's glamorous "salon."


Nukah said goodbye to the city and his big sister, Nancy for now.


I got a fabulous new hairdo just in time for spring.

Brilliant films we saw this weekend:
The Hurt Locker
The Prophet

Happy Blog-versary to me!

Reunion

Back to Brooklyn for a long weekend, the family is reunited. Nancy is not so sure she's into family reunions.


Good food, options, this is why I believe in democracy.


More dog-run fun for Nukah.


Making short-term friends, city-style.