The Big Update

I have returned, I'm glad to say.

I have officially survived my first New York winter. I hit a couple of rough patches, but I think I survived with minimal scaring. Here is a giant update on me.

I am completely happy. My life, though still confusing and stressful is looking better.
I'm not moving out of New York City. I decided to stay and fight.
My father finished cancer treatments. He'll be fine, and out-live everyone.
I'm reading Bleak House.
I discovered how beautiful Brooklyn Heights is.
The man and I decided we should slow things down a little bit. I think I'm okay with that.
A lot of my friends from MI arent doing so well. I worry about them a lot these days.
Summer is right around the corner. I will be staying in New York, but going home 2 seperate weeks.
I'm outlining a novella to work on during the summer.
I want to get back into photography.
I'm listening to Etta James right now.
This is the sea by The Waterboys is still my favorite song.
I still walk on Sundays.
I'm still in love with New York City. That is completely certain.

I'm not dead.

I'm just not sure what to write about at the moment. I dont want this blog to end up being my pedestal to bitch about my life being really shitty. But looking over a few of my previous posts, thats basically what it is. And it would seem that I have bi polar syndrome.

I' not bi polar, I'm just a mess. I hope you all can wait a little bit longer. I can promise with barely any doubt that I will be much better when the weather lightens up, and the sun comes out more.

outof ideas

I'm not sure what I should be writing about anymore. I've been trying to think about what I want the tone of my blog to be, how do I want to be percieved? Basically I came up with nothing.
I cant keep blogging about intimate details of my life because I dont want my memories to belong to someone who isnt, well, me. And when I blog about my day, it just becomes this long and arguous read that even I lose interest in. I have no more stories to post, because I havent written any stories to post about.

This my amigos, is an impass.

The man and I have unresolved issues that we're avoiding. The resolution of which will probably be the end to our "relationship". I'm ruining my academic career basically right out of the box. And at random moments I feel myself welling with tears and I dont know where they come from. I know it isnt the city itself. I wont let myself be one of those people who gets bested by New York.

The thing is, (and this will sound childish), I just want to jump in a machine and travel 10 years into the future to see where I'm heading. Will I know the same people, will I even be alive? Will I have time in my life to actually write something that I feel is worthy of the eyes of others?

Does this get any easier? Or is my plate always going to be this full?

My Oscar Insider is an Idiot

Best Picture:
The Departed

Best Actor: Forrest Whitaker

Best Actress: Helen Mirren

Best Director: Marty

Best Sup Actor: Alan Arking (who saw that coming?)

Best Sup Actress: Jennifer Hudson( I think I called that one)

So the 79th Academy Awards were basically boring. But I had a great time being SUPER gay with MP and his amigos. Let me some things up for those of you that missed it.
Departed won, and everyone realized that they should have seen Pan's Labrinth. Abagail Breslin is basically the cutest button to ever get put on a coat.(did anyone see the Kodak commercial she's in?) The dance co. was genius, the music was interesting. The recaps were well done, except why did we salute American Films?

I would do DIRTY things to Ryan Gosling and Tom Cruise is probably going to be forced to stay away from children. LOOK OUT ABAGAIL HE"LL GIVE YOU A PAMPHLET!!!!
And Ellen was fucking funny.

Oscar Predictions

Best Picture:
Should win: Bable
Will Win: Little Miss Sunshine

Best Actor:
Should win: Forrest Whitaker
Will win: Whitaker
But I do feel an upset with Ryan Gosling. Remember no one thought Adrian Brody would win.

Best Actress:
Should win:Kate Winslet(cant the just give her one already), Penelope Cruz, or Helen Mirren
Will win: Helen Mirren

Best Supporting Actor:
Should win:Jackie Earle Haley
Will win: Eddie Murphy (who isnt funy anymore)

Best Supporting actress:
Should win:Rinko Kikuchi
Will win: Jennifer Hudson, and then she will disappear for ever.

Best Director:
Should win:Departed
Will win: The Queen

Documentary:
should win: Jesus Camp
Will win: Al Gore

The Spoils

I'm not doing so well these days. The relationship is sort of getting off to a rocky start. And we all know that isnt good. School couldnt be worse. I was out last week taking care of MP, and as he was throwing up in the bathroom I relized that I had 2 papers and an exam today. So I'm fucked. Work is getting more and more difficult, and people opinions of me are changing, for reasons I dont know.

As I was coming home from work Saturday instead of going to the man's house, which I usually do, a thought hit me: Go somewhere else. Move. And then the follow up thought hit me: Runaway. Avoid issues, and these arent even very serious issues.

Where would I go: San Fransico, Portland, Seattle, Boston or take a big dive and leave the country.

How would I pay: I would use my parents money, the money they gave me in case I fell on hard times here.

What about school?: I cant pay for school, my parents cant pay for school, the government cant pay for school. My academic career is basically done after next year.

Why go?: Because I know that I'm one of those people who runs from problems and calls it sponteneity. Why do you think I moved to New York in the first place? James, my parents, my depression, my heartache, my sexuality, my boredom.

This is how I feel in a nut shell

Artist: Peter Bjorn And JohnAlbum: Writer's BlockYear: 2006Title: Objects Of My Affection

I remember when, when i first moved here, a long time ago,
´cause i heard some song i used to hear back then,
a lone time ago.
i remember when, even further back,
in another town,
´cause i saw something written i used to say back then,
hard to comprehend

and the question is, was i more alive
then than i am now?
i happily have to disagree;
i laugh more often now, i cry more often now,
i am more me.

but of course some days, i just lie around
and hardly exist,
and can´t tell apart what i´m eating from my hand or my wrist.
´cause flesh is flesh, flesh as flesh as flesh,
the difference is thin.
but life has a certian ability or breating new life into me,
so i breathe it in.
it says here we are, and we all are here,
and you still can make sense,
if you just show up and present an honest face,
instead of that grin.

and the other day, this new friend of mine
said something to me
"just because something starts differently,
doesn´t mean it´s worth less."
and i soaked it in, how i soaked it in,
how i soaked it in
and just as to prove how right he was,
then you came.
so i´m gonna give, yes i´m gonna give,
i´m gonna give you a try,
so i´m gonna give, yes i´m gonna give,
i´m gonna give you a try



I also feel a little bit like the Magnolia soundtrack though. I'm racking my brains out about things between the man and I. We hardly get a chance to talk because he works all the time. And this week he has a house guest coming so I wont be able to talk to him face to face.

I'm having a shit day.

Big Ideas

Man and I talking in bed this morning:

Me:

Do you ever have days where you just want to ditch everything, get your passport out and just go somewhere?

Man:

Everyday

Me:

Good. Thats comforting.

Man:

Ever actually do it?

Me:

Once. I didnt get too far, Chicago.

Man:

Why there?

Me:

It was the farthest from home that I still knew people. Did you ever do it?

Man:

Yeah, I went to Kyoto.

Me:

Really, why?

Man:

It was the only place I could think to go to make sure I didnt run into anyone I knew.

All I have to say is: "All the gin joints in all the world...".

I have taken the leap

I have updated to the new version of blogger. If there are any complications let me know.

My philosophy prof

So I have this crazy philosophy professor who talks with a very thick Russian accent. I can hardly understand her when she goes into tangets about piety, and defenitions, and other useless bullshit. I really hate that class.

Anyway she wears her hair very strangely. Its a reddish-brown color and is curly. And she pulls it up and clips it to the front of her head. Its odd. Anyway when she does that she had one curl that sort of sits on her forehead. I was trying to think of what it reminded me of. Finally today I got it. Picasso's Le R^eve( I cant figure out sub or super script on this bitch.)

My mom is here

My mother is here. She arrived early this morning and basically waited around for me all day long. I took her to dinner at Republic on Union Sq. West. She loves the Pad Thai there. So far things are going well.

I can feel our relationship morphing from mother/teenager to mother/adult. Or at least she respects my decisions more. Its good and bad at the same time. I feel relieved that I dont have to put up the almost charade for my parents that I put up in high school. I also feel relieved that whatever dialogue I decide to use with her she goes with it. And she no longer scoffs at my food buying habits. She actually seemed interested in the fact that I like whole wheat rasin english muffins for breakfast.

I will fill you in on developements with the man and I (the curve ball). and I will digress further about the mother visit later. Now, though its 9 p.m. I must go to bed. I'm exhausted.

The whether

I think I'm becoming narotic. This is why.

The Guy and I were talking the other day as I was leaving overpriced-times square-located-super media-store(dont know if I did the hyphens right). We were on the phone. He was telling me about how he was going to be stuck at the office all night working on a new account because he's having trouble "cracking it". I honestly dont really know what that means, but I was sympathetic.

In passing I made a comment about the dreaded valentines day. Now I'm not one for mushy bullshit holidays, and I never have been. But then again I've never found myself in the fog a potential relationship around the dreaded day. I think the most James ever did was buy me a cup of coffee and allow me to bum a few smokes off of him.

Now I feel like I may want to actually do something special. And by special I just mean order in and watch a movie. I dont want over the top, I actually kind of hate over the top. But I just like being with him.

Back to the point. I mentioned it and he kind of freaked out. "Umm," he said, "We, uh, we'll have to discuss it I guess."
I quickly tried to glaze it over. Telling him it wasnt a big deal I was wondering if he had thought about it, but I think the damage may have been done.

Now I have 2 big concerns in the whole scheme of things:

1.) our age differences will start to become a problem. While I'm not stupid by any means, and I dont think I'm that naive (how the hell do you make those damn dots!?) there is a certain amount of knowledge that he has that I have yet to aquire. This could at anytime become an issue.
2.) The extremely large difference in our incomes. I work in retail, and I'm in college. I basically dont make any money. He works in advertising, and is damn good at his job, and obviously makes more than me. Either he and I will find a way to bridge the gap, or it will become the elephant in the room.

an addition to the previous post

Also what if:

A little tiny mouse is in your little tiny apartment and continually wakes you up so that you only get 5 hours of sleep before your almost 13 hour day.

Hump Day

What is worse?

*Being at school for 4 hours with a pen that doesnt write and no time to buy one for $6
at the bookstore?
*Forgetting that you were suppose to read 93 pages into Jane Eyre for the second
day of class, and feeling embarrassed that your bookmark is at page 17.
*Being so busy that you forget to call your father whose undergoing cancer radiation therapy.
*Listening to your best friend cry on the phone for 45 minutes and not being able to do anything
about it because she's 645 mile away.
*Getting a call from your mother telling you that she's going to be here at 9:35 a.m. and she's staying until saturday.

You pick

My reading list

This is what I have to read this semester.

English 2:

Sigmund Freud "The Uncanny"
William Shakespeare "Hamlet"
Toni Morrison "Beloved"

English 40.4 Victorian Fiction

Charlotte Bronte "Jane Eyre"
Emily Bronte "Wuthering Heights"
Elizabeth Gaskell "Mary Barton"
Charles Dickens "Bleak House" (HOLY FUCK!!!)
George Eliot "Silas Marner"
Joseph Conrad "Heart of Darkness"
Oscar Wilde "Importance of Being Earnest"

another bullshit philosophy class

Plato "The Trial and Death of Socrates"
R. Descartes "Meditations on First Philosophy"
I. Kant "Groundwork"
F. Nietzsche "On the Advantage and Disadvantage of History for Life"
M. Buber "I and Thou"

I never thought I'd say this before but I think my math class is going to be a good break.

You are all allowed to pity me.

First day of the spring semester

I'm seriously considering dropping out.

Sunday of freedom

Last night was spent with Guy. I bought Japanese food from Miyagi and took it uptown to chill with him. When I got there he had made sweet potatoes, rice, salmon, and some incredible thing with cucumbers. We ate, we drank wine, we flirted shamlessly while Steeley Dan played on KCRW. And he always has Cartoon Network playing in the backround.

We watched part of The Motorcycle Diaries.(Which I love.) And I was impressed with his nonexsistent fear of subtitles. I impressed him with my unlengthly spanish vocabulary. ("no puedo".) We made out like bandits, and then we went to bed.

This morning we stayed in bed until about 10 o'clock kissing, and talking about everything. We talked about our favorite days. Mine was 2 years ago. His was 5 years ago. He was praying in "Bum fuck Morocco" and was washed clean by and old man and his two grandsons. By the time he finished his story which ended in his discovering yoga, I basically was speechless and felt a little childish about my own story.

He had to go to work, and i decided to go to around the clock for brunch. The 2 of you who read this already know that. I bought my paper and ate my eggs and drank my coffee.

Then I proceded to turn off my phone and walk around the city for almost the entire day. I explored SOHO, a neighborhood I know little about except that its unbelievably expensive and "hip" which in this town is just another word for expensive.

It was on Wooster St. that I saw Francis McDormand. We made eye contact for a little over 10 seconds. And as I walked past her and two of her friends she sounded like she was talking about my dread locks. This both enthralls and horrors me.

Anyway this post could continue on for days. But I will make my story short.

I bought a cookbook. I hardly ever actually cook for myself, and seeing as I'm a college student with an unusual amount of time on my hands, I figure why not learn the skill. So cutey Tyler Florence is now sitting next to my toaster waiting to teach me how to make blueberry scones with lemon glaze.

And I bought new jeans. They fit perfectly, which is all you can as from a pair of jeans, no?

I rented Kill Bill the 4,000th time and as I sing alog with the japanese songs word for word, I must go to bed. School starts tomorrow and I need to begin with my new years resolutions.

Time's flying by

Last year was absolutly the most important year of my life, thus far. I had prom, I graduated from highschool, and 3 weeks after that I moved 600 miles away from my home of 18 years to live in a place I dreamed about living in for those 18 years.

So why is everything before now such a blur?

I remember prom, I remember graduation, I remember long drives and Jones Sodas and smoking great pot, and doing other drugs, and listening to music that none of my friends had ever heard of. I remember that all in vivid detail, but i just seems so long ago, ya know? I feel like I'm so different now than I was then.

I'm still really unschooled in the ways of the world. But my life is so different now. In Michigan no one would dream of eating at a restaraunt with $15 entee's, I still feel a little guilty about it myself. I certainly cant afford it. But I somehow have aquired friends who can.

Sometimes I have to take a step back and examine things. Which is partially why I started this blog. I need to be able to appreciate NOW the fact that I can go to a members opening at the Met, and meet "High society" people, and then go home to my tiny studio, where I dont have television, and I have roaches.

Home just feels so far away. I think the worst part is that I, even though I miss my friends and my family from home, I truly am happy here. Is that wrong?

While the rest of the world was sleeping

The Guy (formerly New Guy) and I are good at mornings. The bed seems to be an oasis of sorts.
He wakes before his alarm and turns it off. Then he turns and cradles around me. A kiss on the sholder, the nape of my neck. I usually wake up as his hand grazes my chest. I smile to myself as he pulls me closer to him. We exchange good mornings and play footsie for a few seconds, then fall back asleep.

I usually wake up about half an hour later, as he pulls away from me to get ready for work. His office makes him work crazy hours so he doesnt have to be in the office until "10:30 at the latest".

I listen to him shower for a few minutes before I doze off again. He wakes me up as see saddles into bed with me again; his hair wet, his hands clammy. I turn and wrap myself around him like an octopus. "I wish I could lay in bed all day." He usually says, or something to that affect.

He switches on the radio to hear the news, and we listen to the weather report as I absentmindedly kiss his chest. We stay like this for a while. Just me, him, the bed, the morning news. We make remarks about the weather, as he lightly drags his fingers along my back. Its easy touching. Its possesive yet passive. The beginning of something. Something that may become nothing in the grand scheme of things. It also may be something incredibly meaningful, the foundation of profound love. A blossoming.

Eventually he sighs deeply and says "ok, I really gotta go to work now." I clutch him cutely and say "Stay with MEEE, you know you want to." He "Humphs" in agreement and makes a remark about bringing home the bacon.

I watch as he gets dressed, admiring the way he looks. The curves, the divots, the supple and the masculine. To me he is gorgeous. He asks for my opinion about shirts, and jeans. Always the black belt.

I get up and get dressed as well. Hoping that he's noticing me the way I notice him. As I buttoned my shirt this morning he walked over to me, holding my face he walked me back into the wall and kissed me. I felt his arms wrap around me, holding me secure. I felt the world drop away from me. A feeling that I usually had to simulate with a drug or a book. The kiss morphs into a hug, deep and tender.

When we break he puts his hand on the wall next to my head. He resembles John Travolta in Grease, or Jay and the Americans. "Hey kid," he says "I think I kinda like ya."
"You would," I reply teasing. We banter back and forth for a moment and then get serious. He needs to go to work, I need to let him.

We leave the apartment with a final polite, respectful lip lock. His hand on the middle of my chest, mine the side of his face. He likes me.

We walk to my train station, half a block away. We smile at each other, remark on the actual tempature. We talk about the New York morning. And we depart with a hug. I decend the stairs wishing for more time with him. And image him walking to work.

On the train I search my ipod for something profound, something to sum it all up, but I dont find anything. So I look, blank stares from commuters surround me and I think "If only they knew my story, my morning."

Big Resolutions

New Guy and I kept a palpable distance over the plast couple of days. We sent text messages every now and then, but they were very safe "Hows your day going?" "I hate my job" "Stuck at the office late again" kind of text messages. Chit-chat, you dont have to think communications.

Then today I went to MOMA with Lady L. It was something we had planned but I also like that I had a good reason to turn my phone off. I was in my best form. I explained why Jackson Pollock wasnt just drips on a canvas. I gave my opinion of why Warhol, though genius, shouldnt be as famous as he is. And there was the near 8 minute soliloquy where went into length explaining why Les Demoiselles d'Avignon really is one of the most important paintings ever produced. When people started kind of inching closer to me I realized I was getting long winded and needed to wrap it up.

But the art was relaxing. I enjoyed the photography wing. I went into a three part comparison on Hines, Dickens and Sinclair. And she stopped me when I started going off talking about how Dickens had good intentions but being published in magazines that werent in wide enough circulation at the time made Oliver Twist more substantial in hindsight than The Jungle and Hines' photographs.

But alas on the way home I hit a funk. I'll be honest I fell into a shitty mood. So at 5:30 in the evening when most people were leaving the office and pushing their way through the 42nd street station to get home, I was eating fried chicken and drooling over Russel Crow in Gladiator. One of the few action movies I really like.

Then I get a call from Doctor Michael. Asking me if I wouldnt mind having him buy me dinner. This sounded like the perfect upper. I got a gorgeous cheeseburger, that I ate like nobody's business. And I had great conversation about...prosititution. But more on that later.

After leaving Michael in Park Slope I walked to the trusty Q train, my beloved. I got a text from New Guy "So tell me, do know how to ice skate?"
"Oil and water" I text back.
"Perfect! We'll should go sometime this week"
"I'm game"
Then as I descended the stairs and swiped my card I thought "just like that, we'll pretend it never happened.