Cleaning out the house

Cleaning house this morning, I found these two [somewhat old] poems. Of course, the real issue is, what am I doing up so early on a Saturday?

Herewith:

It was one of those nights
that wraps itself up—
your red shirt that
turns all my clothes to pink
and I wouldn’t mind
but all you offer is some strangely named drink
ordered just to impress
our waiter. Cuban margaritas this time—equal
parts rum lime amaretto
no tequila or salt.
Not even a margarita, really,
So, what is it that you call love? Last week
it was a dirty martini, which tasted of
oceans and gulls, circling above
and gazing too intently
to see what they could scavenge.
Well, take it all.
I’ve nothing left to give
save myself, which you have not seen
and there are names for that too.


still life with blue

You will remain
forever changing, forever
remaining consistent in that. It’s comforting,
in a way. In the same way our collective silence is
provided it’s punctuated by the sound
of a garbage truck moving up our street
slowly making the week’s refuse smaller and
smaller until it's gone. There’s some solace in that
as there is in Sunday mornings in winter
in air that tastes of embers
and in you sleeping late, allowing the garbage
to remain uncollected, allowing birds to sift through
it for the perfect length of blue yarn to make
their nests home.

Beckett Redux

Found the actual quote that I referenced a few days prior.

These are important things.

Really.

Or, not.

At any rate, here it is:

Be again, be again. [Pause.] All that old misery. [Pause.] Once wasn't enough for you. [Pause.] Lie down across her.

__
That is all.

In the aftermath

Dinner and drinks with PP last night, followed by a show. We got to talking about this fall, lessons learned, all the stuff that comes when you're sharing a bottle of wine.

She filled me in on more developments from across the city - telling me something which made me feel awful, although in this case, at least, the fatal blow had nothing to do with me.

The thing is that despite everything that's happened, I still feel like I made the right decision back in October. At least the right decision for me and the one that I could live with.

So, there's that. Which is good, I guess.

A while back, during a conversation about all of this, I told NK that the worst part, I thought, was how quickly one gets used to things. The hurts fade and current reality seeps in, and in a flash the current shape of things passes for normal.

I'm discovering now how very true that statement was.

So, I was right, as I am about a good many things . This isn't arrogance. Truly, I wish I wasn't.

Oh, well.

Walking in the rain

Had drinks with TK last night, who earlier in the week had offhandedly joked about how I should move back to Boston. Which, of course, got me thinking about being back in Boston this past May, and how being there made me fall in love with New York afresh. Maybe it was that Boston was too small, and too much a part of the past for me. Who knows, really?

What I do know is this: walking in the rain, today, in Central Park, I realized that I'm still very much in love with this city. Even with the tourists, and the crowded streets, and the chance encounters, and the--at times --paralyzing loneliness. In fact, I think those are some of the very things that make me love it. Strange.

I'm remembering when I was much younger, and I'd go to visit D. He'd mock me mercilessly for being a tourist, because the minute I stepped off the grid, I'd be helplessly lost.

I still get lost off the grid, all these years later.

I think that I secretly like it that way. Perhaps it's the feeling of weightlessness that comes with being lost on a city street, or the thrill of not knowing what I might discover (after all, I found Bedlam that way in London).

There's always something to look forward to if you look hard enough.

Besides, finding my way back is never harder than hailing a cab.

Begin Again, Begin Again, Lie Down Across Her

Yes, I'm quoting Samuel Beckett [badly].

Krapp's Last Tape to be precise.

I never said I wasn't pretentious. It's just that it seems oddly fitting given the circumstance. To paraphrase further: strange now to think of that young whelp I once was.

So, yes, it's been quite some time since I've written, here at least. Which is not to say that much hasn't happened. Quite the opposite.

To wit: in the past two years I've moved house, watched several good friends leave the city, made some fantastic new ones, changed jobs, at times felt surrounded by sickness and the eventual recovery there from, even had my heart broken a few times.

It's the last point on that list that I'm stuck on at the moment, perhaps because the latest one is so fresh and was so hurtful. But, I think that it's important to take something from each experience - however unpleasant it may be. So, in this case, here's what I can take away: a cold water faucet that now works properly and the knowledge that, actually, I am quite capable of being in a relationship and not losing part of myself, as I had so long feared. Not a bad trade, really. The rest, of course, will take time. Luckily, that I have.

So, onward, to the next adventure. Hopefully I'll stick with the writing this time. I feel good about it.

I think.

This may make me the biggest geek ever

But I'm counting down to January 24.

Click here to find out why.

For your consideration

And, so with the announcement of the Golden Globe nominees this week, awards season is off to its official start as is, at least in my case, a month of even more than usual compulsive movie watching.

That said, I can't help but be a little disappointed by the nominees, or more specifically the absence of a nomination for Steve Carell as best supporting in Little Miss Sunshine. Maybe it's a case for fan-dom gone horribly awry, but it was that performance that made me such a fan. Somehow he manages to make a potentially utterly ridiclous character completely human - think Amy Adams in June Bug (a performance, that, incidentally, was awarded with an Oscar nomination) - I was completely enthralled.

Let's see what happens with the Academy Awards.

Predictions tk, once I get the hang of posting regularly. Let's see just how long that takes.