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.

My Best Friend, Riva Helps Me Feel Better Every Day

I know I said I don't have time to post, and I don't, but now I absolutely have to.

Guess what came in the mail today? Two weeks late!!!

Riva sent me an amazing package filled with 4 fruit leathers, one Scharffen Berger dark chocolate bar, a Burt's Bee Honey lip balm, a Bratz Pez dispenser (this is too weird. I don't think I can bring myself to eat Pez out of a Black woman's bust, but who knows), one Manner hazelnut cream filled wafer bar, a cocoa flavored panda licorice bar, robot stickers, cat stickers, old gili and riva stickers, a Ben & Jerry's gift certificate, a "I read banned books" button, one of those monster finger puppets (that i currently have on my pointer finger), a spiffer manicure pen, an amazingly hot picture of Riva from the library's short skirt day (this is a good reminder of why there once was a big crush that began our friendship eight years ago), a MBTA card with money still on it, a copy of Camera Obscura's "Lets Get Out of This Country," a copy of The Be Good Tanyas "Chinatown," and a card that insists that Riva loves me more than the Gilmore Girls and more than chocolate cupcakes!!!!

This package was SOOOO worth waiting for!

I don't know what I did to deserve this. Breaking up sucks, but gifts don't.

Unfortunately, the hot picture of Riva isn't available online, but since we're such hams, here's one of us from two years ago (when we still had short hair and I was still a Californian. So much has changed, but my love of Riva hasn't.)

Thank you thank you thank you!!!

p.s. Still not able to post about NY because I have to get to the train soon. Just had to send big thanks right away. Love you.
p.p.s. I used to think nothing good came out of going to Oberlin, but where would I be without all of you now?

Right Around The Corner = The Time Of My Life

Oh my goodness, oh my goodness! I have so much to write. But I’m saving it for tomorrow. Here’s the exciting news!

I’m moving to a basement studio in the east village! Believe it!

And it’s really reasonably priced and not as small as it could be. I am freaking out!

I was texting a bunch of people on the train home and my friend Kim’s text made me cry. When I told her I’m afraid of the move, she texted, “Don’t b scared-the time of yr life is right around the corner, my friend. Gili + nyc= awesomeness!”

Here are some craigslist pictures of my new home. Sure, it’s not fancy pantsy, but come on, this is new york, what do you want from me?

I’m tired and wired and need sleep. I haven’t called a friend of mine back in Minneapolis for a few days because I had a bad cold and then I was afraid I would start crying on the phone and not be able to stop, but now all is looking up, so I’m free to socialize again. Did I mention I’m moving for real? November 9th, baby. I hope Kim is right.

P.S. Riva recommended The Killer’s Tears, another young adult book that’s almost on the same amazing level as Walk Two Moons. Definitely check it out for all you new Walk Two Moons fans.

P.P.S. Song for train rides: Colors and the Kids by Cat Power

P.P.P.S. I had a poppyseed hammentaschen today (and it was only two blocks from my new home!!!) I have found heaven.

Best Sukkah In Somerville, Hands Down

perfection

our etrog (the lemon)

Kimberley and the Hanging Produce

Me and the unbreakable Sukkot chain

Hottest Sukkah Ever!

p.s. truth be told, we didn't actually know what sukkot was about. we googled it last night and discovered (surprise, surprise) it has something to do with wandering in the desert and building huts. i'm not sure how it became a fall harvest celebration or what bananas and apples have to do with it, but who cares?
p.p.s. I saved Kimberley from plummeting to her death as she pasted the stars to the ceiling of our Sukkah.
p.p.p.s. last night Kimberley and I wrote several Sukkot Haiku. We didn't write them down, it was more of an oral thing. Sadly, I can't remember them now.

It's Good To Be A Jew! (Also Titled I'm Co-President of The No More Boundary Pushers Club, Wanna Join?)

Friday:
*Got MORE incredible art from Aimee. The envelope she sent has been going back and forth between us and is well loved. Artists are so smart. Especially Aimee.

*Received feedback from my mentor. He’s a fan of my revisions, which is such a relief. I thought this was my worst submission period, but he didn’t agree. One of my stories is really coming together. Now, I have to dive into another one.

*Went dancing with Kimberley. We got there and it was pretty empty. We rocked out even though the music sucked. Then events went as follows:
-The music keeps sucking so K and I ask if we can suggest a song or two. The DJ lady insisted that she had already picked out the music for the rest of the night!
-(Many of the men at this place have tried to hit on me or my sister and have gotten the clear message that we’re not interested. There are only two guys that we are slightly interested in, but not really. K’s pick is too shy and my pick is too much of a guy, so I can’t really spend my time pursuing him. I’m there to dance with K and that’s that.) One of the guys doesn’t know me at all and last night he decided to try and dance with me.

Him: wanna dance?
Me: no
Him: it could be fun
Me: no
Him: have you been here before?
Me: yes
Him: sure you don’t want to dance?
I walk away. I already AM having fun. I already AM dancing. Leave me alone!!! What is with this boundary pusher epidemic? No means no! Can't a couple of women have fun without men getting all up in our business?)

-Then I really wanted to go. They didn’t want to play good music and the sleazy men were in attack mode.
-Before we left, we must steal from these evil dancing people. So K and I grab two bags of Pepperidge Farms cookies and head out the door.
-But wait! Landmine at the bus stop! Shuva, one of the innocent dancers, is waiting at the bus stop. So we hide the bags of cookies in our coats (mine was under my armpit) and keep them there through the bus ride home). She’s talking on and on (her English is not great and we have no idea what she’s saying) but meanwhile, our coats are bulging with stolen treats.
-We donated one bag of cookies to the homeless (so Robin Hood of us) and kept the ginger men cookies for ourselves, promptly eating ¾ of the bag upon entering K’s home.

Saturday:

*Kimberley and I are celebrating Sukkot, one of my favorite Jewish holidays! As soon as K gets back from acupuncture, we are converting her porch into a Sukkah.

*Today we bought: 6 apples, a bunch of bananas, a lemon, construction paper (very important for making paper chains, which are an essential Sukkot ingredient. see picture), shiny stars, white grape juice, string, and tape. We’re going to collect leaves and tape them to the porch. And make a little bowl of spices to add to the overall autumn-ness of the event.

*Later, we’re going to make Sukkot Kugel and pumpkin muffins and say some prayers under our beautiful Sukkah. We’re supposed to sleep under the Sukkah and watch the stars, but I think that’s a little too Ortho for us.

*A very happy Sukkot to all the Jews and Jews for Jesus in the crowd!

Songs of the day:
The Chain: Fleetwood Mac (in honor of construction paper chains for Sukkot)
Autumn Sweater: Yo La Tengo (in honor of autumn)
Maneater: Hall & Oates (in honor of K and my response to gross men)

Bathing With Smart Writers

Yesterday:
*Spent two hours and ten minutes in the bathtub with Katherine Anne Porter. Pale Horse, Pale Rider is so intense. All three stories in the collection blew me away.
*Ate about half a box of Kashi Heart to Heart honey roasted cereal (is anyone else addicted to this?)

Today:
*Procrastinating on my annotation by writing about Porter on my blog. (I just read online that she was friends with a Nazi. A friend of the Nazis is no friend of mine. And she loved horses! Now, that's a deal-breaker. But it's inescapable, she was an incredible writer.)
*Starting my big old Cheever book (perhaps another bath is in order).
*Revise, revise, revise my own work
*Drink more coffee
*Maybe go dancing again with Kimberley and Debbie. (Since I didn't run this morning, I need to shake my tush.)
*I promised myself no internet until I finished my outline for my Porter annotation. I've got to get off of this computer before it swallows me whole.

"Hey! Do You Want To Come Out, and Play The Game? It's Never Too Late."

Fall is here. This weekend the leaves are supposed to change colors in a big way. Fall is my second favorite season after
Spring because I like hot apple cider, quilts/snuggling, hot baths, orange and yellow and red.

For the few of you that might have noticed, I was without my phone for the past week. I wasn't really without it, but I wasn't feeling like I could communicate with the outer world. While I was in seclusion, I read and wrote a lot, ran daily, ate lots of bananas (great for depression), and atoned on Yom Kippur.

Kimberley and I got pedicures yesterday (Kimberley's first time) and went dancing. I love my sister a lot and she's totally my match humor-wise. For whatever reason, Kimberley (sometimes) introduces herself as "Palestine." She likes to see how people will react. It kind of reminds me of another person (you know who you are) who made up stories in college about being married off after her senior year. Anyway, Kimberley told the pedicure people that her name is Palestine. That's my brilliant sister.

Whoever left "Century Plant" on my voice mail, this morning you made me cry (in a good way). I think there's only one possible person who would think to do that. If you haven't seen "Camp" the movie, it's not to be missed. If you were an arts school/arts camp kid, this movie is for you. Person who left message, how did you call me from a Virginia phone number? I'm confused. I'm no longer cell phone free. Let's talk.

I've been noticing a dramatic increase in melancholy on the blogs I read. Is there something collective going on (like when girls living together get their period at the same time)? Anyway, I hope it's a passing thing. My spirits are starting to lift.

Middle of next week, I go back to New York for the third housing attempt. Let the games begin/continue.

favorite hair care product: Frizz Ease Step 2 Conditioner
favorite bubble bath product: Aveda Energizing Body Cleanser

happy vs. HAPPY; Spork vs. Spark

I was reading in Kimberley’s Stanford alumni magazine about this psychology professor, Jeanne Tsai, who studies happiness. She says, “European-Americans aspire more often to a high-energy elation… However people raised in more collective Asian cultures aspire more often to a tranquil joy.” I’m definitely Euro-American based on that analysis (and on everything else), but ever since I read that article, I’ve been really aware of my ideas of happiness. I’m trying to slow my pace and feel good about my life. Mostly, the big change is I’m taking baths almost every night. But I can feel myself moving through the world differently.

Speaking of this slower pace, sometimes I feel like I’ve got so much energy, there isn’t room for others to relate to me. I’ve been thinking about the difference between a spork and a spark. (The dictionary says a spork is a combination of a spoon and a fork and a spark is an electrical discharge.) I think some of my relationships tend to be more sporky than sparky. Here are my own definitions:

A spork relationship: One in which two things try to fit together but don’t. As one unit, they are still functional, with their own unique humor, but a spork relationship is not sustainable or practical. It’s unheard of for most people to use sporks instead of spoons and forks. There just isn’t a demand. Spork relationships can be fun and silly, but they exist based on their tchotchke appeal more on anything else.

A spark relationship: Full of stimulation. Long lasting based on a mutual desire to discover new things about each other. The key word is “mutual”. Art, fire, electricity, change, and in most cases life require a spark.

So my Rosh Hashanah goals include:
-Learning to find a balance between a high-energy and a tranquil sense of happiness
-Creating more spark relationships