Friday, December 31, 2010
Best parts of 2010
1. Eating dinner with Jeff & Tina in Chinatown after Fans left for Hong Kong that same morning. I had spent the entire afternoon cleaning the apartment, trying as always to find leftover traces of Ann, wondering what they'd feed her on the plane. Wondering if she would miss me. Knowing that it wasn't at all that she had abandoned me, but feeling abandoned nonetheless... not really by her, but... by something more -- us, perhaps, the happiness we shared in being together. It was as if a part of me had also abandoned myself; I think that's what happens when family leaves.
But that night, I hopped on the subway to meet Jeff and Tina, and I felt so relieved seeing them, a beanie pulled down his burly head, her small shoulders and smaller hands, hearing them speak Chinese, mulling over the menu together. We shared and nearly finished everything, including the most delicious shrimp fried rice. I think that's when I experienced how eating with loved ones can be a major comfort, can expel loneliness of the strongest kind.
2. Dancing with Jess Chia at PS.1 on a blazing summer day to electronic beats. Then spotting a little old lady and a little old man, surrounded by beer-clutching 20-somethings, the two of them dancing like nobody's business.
3. Waking up in Washington, padding downstairs -- carpet under socks in pajama pants, excited to meet gramps in the kitchen, knowing already that he's put the kettle on. Our breakfast of steaming oatmeal (and ground flaxseed). Hearing the ticking cuckoo clocks... Not knowing where we'll be going later, not caring, just feeling a calm, quiet joy. Patient, undivided and safe.
Walking the trail at King County Park with my grandparents and Aunt June, listening to gramps reciting Chinese poems, explaining each word to me as I held onto his hand.
Daniel feeling hurt that one time we started dinner without him. We explained that it was because his mom said he was still doing homework and that we should eat first. He still repeated frownily all through out dinner, "You guys didn't wait for me! You started dinner without me!" For some reason I found that endearing. What is it about someone who pouts at you for starting without them? Means you're close enough for them to expect such things from you. Loved ones have the loving right to. I would like mine to always know they do.
4. The way my dad grinned and walked toward me in bouncy skip-steps when he picked me up at the airport. The way my mom's hair looked: like she had just gotten out of bed (which was true), and how she wore two pairs of pants (one of which were her PJ bottoms), and her full moon smile when she hugged me.
5. Being together with Mike, Jeff and Ann.
6. Sitting in my dinky 9D living room after picking up Tina and Harry from JFK, finding Jess still splayed delightfully on the couch, talking as Tina and Harry devoured turkey sandwiches from the deli. Our laughter punctuated by the loud crunching of Stacey's pita chips.
7. Being a part of the Wayne Barrett Slaves. Coming home to an AC'd room, and zero tasks for the remainder of the night except to laze around in bed indulging in The Hills and Weeds.
8. People who unknowingly made me laugh at WSN.
9. Those times when I'd call Kellen and Andy at odd hours of the night; they'd pick up and actually stay on the line for as long as whenever. I could be myself: open, random, bland, full of goofy nonsense, exhilarated, self-depracating, scathing, sad. Honest. They listened, and I knew that even if they didn't agree, they tried to understand. They responded, and I knew that even if I dismissed myself, they wouldn't dismiss me.
10. Upon arriving in Boston and settling in our hotel room, Drew held out a zip-lock bag with both our toothbrushes in it. "I brought yours, too," he said. It was quite unexpected; I had brought my own toothbrush from my apartment, but he packed my toothbrush from his apartment anyway, just in case. There was something about this that really touched me. It was like this little surprise, this thoughtful gesture that makes him, him, and that tells me who I am to him.
2010 has been about sharing. It was the best beginning; can't wait to grow even more in that.
But that night, I hopped on the subway to meet Jeff and Tina, and I felt so relieved seeing them, a beanie pulled down his burly head, her small shoulders and smaller hands, hearing them speak Chinese, mulling over the menu together. We shared and nearly finished everything, including the most delicious shrimp fried rice. I think that's when I experienced how eating with loved ones can be a major comfort, can expel loneliness of the strongest kind.
2. Dancing with Jess Chia at PS.1 on a blazing summer day to electronic beats. Then spotting a little old lady and a little old man, surrounded by beer-clutching 20-somethings, the two of them dancing like nobody's business.
3. Waking up in Washington, padding downstairs -- carpet under socks in pajama pants, excited to meet gramps in the kitchen, knowing already that he's put the kettle on. Our breakfast of steaming oatmeal (and ground flaxseed). Hearing the ticking cuckoo clocks... Not knowing where we'll be going later, not caring, just feeling a calm, quiet joy. Patient, undivided and safe.
Walking the trail at King County Park with my grandparents and Aunt June, listening to gramps reciting Chinese poems, explaining each word to me as I held onto his hand.
Daniel feeling hurt that one time we started dinner without him. We explained that it was because his mom said he was still doing homework and that we should eat first. He still repeated frownily all through out dinner, "You guys didn't wait for me! You started dinner without me!" For some reason I found that endearing. What is it about someone who pouts at you for starting without them? Means you're close enough for them to expect such things from you. Loved ones have the loving right to. I would like mine to always know they do.
4. The way my dad grinned and walked toward me in bouncy skip-steps when he picked me up at the airport. The way my mom's hair looked: like she had just gotten out of bed (which was true), and how she wore two pairs of pants (one of which were her PJ bottoms), and her full moon smile when she hugged me.
5. Being together with Mike, Jeff and Ann.
6. Sitting in my dinky 9D living room after picking up Tina and Harry from JFK, finding Jess still splayed delightfully on the couch, talking as Tina and Harry devoured turkey sandwiches from the deli. Our laughter punctuated by the loud crunching of Stacey's pita chips.
7. Being a part of the Wayne Barrett Slaves. Coming home to an AC'd room, and zero tasks for the remainder of the night except to laze around in bed indulging in The Hills and Weeds.
8. People who unknowingly made me laugh at WSN.
9. Those times when I'd call Kellen and Andy at odd hours of the night; they'd pick up and actually stay on the line for as long as whenever. I could be myself: open, random, bland, full of goofy nonsense, exhilarated, self-depracating, scathing, sad. Honest. They listened, and I knew that even if they didn't agree, they tried to understand. They responded, and I knew that even if I dismissed myself, they wouldn't dismiss me.
10. Upon arriving in Boston and settling in our hotel room, Drew held out a zip-lock bag with both our toothbrushes in it. "I brought yours, too," he said. It was quite unexpected; I had brought my own toothbrush from my apartment, but he packed my toothbrush from his apartment anyway, just in case. There was something about this that really touched me. It was like this little surprise, this thoughtful gesture that makes him, him, and that tells me who I am to him.
2010 has been about sharing. It was the best beginning; can't wait to grow even more in that.
Some attraction fades, inexplicably
"He looked at her as a man looks at a faded flower he has gathered, with difficulty recognizing in it the beauty for which he picked and ruined it."
--Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina
--Leo Tolstoy, Anna Karenina
God says
You may have someone in your mind, someone in your heart, someone in your dreams, someone in your life, but I am your someone when you have no one.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Where's Jeff
Before lunchtime today, Jeff bounded upstairs. Fortune had it so that he'd bump into Ann, who, upon learning that he was heading to the bathroom to take a shit, forbade him to proceed any further.
She: "I need to brush my teeth and wash my face and I don't wanna do that while breathing your poo fumes."
So Jeff trudges downstairs to use the bathroom there. Less than two seconds after he steps inside thinking he could finally shit in peace, my father knocks on the door. "Who's in there?"
A grunt.
"Huh?"
A grunt.
"Oh, okay. Uh we're eating lunch soon."
A couple minutes later, my mother yells out that lunch is ready. She knocks on the bathroom door. Jeff? Jeff? Jeff we're eating soon. Jeff?
my dad informs her that jeff's taking a shit and to leave him alone.
We begin to eat lunch. Typically Jeff is the biggest presence at mealtimes. So suddenly everyone else (aside from my parents) starts wondering where Jeff is. my grandparents, who always beef up the menu whenever Jeff's home, were especially perturbed by his absence.
Frowny grandpa: Dah di? Dah di, nuh? (motions to my mom to get jeff)
My mother walks over to the bathroom and this time starts knocking at the door in a panic. Are you done yet, Jeff? Jeff? What's taking so long -- you still in there?
Poor guy just wanted to poo in peace.
She: "I need to brush my teeth and wash my face and I don't wanna do that while breathing your poo fumes."
So Jeff trudges downstairs to use the bathroom there. Less than two seconds after he steps inside thinking he could finally shit in peace, my father knocks on the door. "Who's in there?"
A grunt.
"Huh?"
A grunt.
"Oh, okay. Uh we're eating lunch soon."
A couple minutes later, my mother yells out that lunch is ready. She knocks on the bathroom door. Jeff? Jeff? Jeff we're eating soon. Jeff?
my dad informs her that jeff's taking a shit and to leave him alone.
We begin to eat lunch. Typically Jeff is the biggest presence at mealtimes. So suddenly everyone else (aside from my parents) starts wondering where Jeff is. my grandparents, who always beef up the menu whenever Jeff's home, were especially perturbed by his absence.
Frowny grandpa: Dah di? Dah di, nuh? (motions to my mom to get jeff)
My mother walks over to the bathroom and this time starts knocking at the door in a panic. Are you done yet, Jeff? Jeff? What's taking so long -- you still in there?
Poor guy just wanted to poo in peace.
Mike says
i'm chilling in here with mike. he leaves the room, then quickly returns, saying
--i think ann's taking a poo. cause i knocked and i heard a 'what is it' in a tone that means
'i want you to leave.'
(we both crack up)
(15 minutes later we hear the bathroom door open. i look at him, saying)
--i think she's done. i would suggest waiting a bit before heading in.
(he heads to the bathroom again, returns again, saying)
--she's applying lotion now. but i saw that the lid was down. so's i told her that i wanted to take a dump, that way she'd open the lid to air it out a bit first.
i tell him, good thinking.
but he shakes his head, saying
--yeah but then she told me it's clogged.
--i think ann's taking a poo. cause i knocked and i heard a 'what is it' in a tone that means
'i want you to leave.'
(we both crack up)
(15 minutes later we hear the bathroom door open. i look at him, saying)
--i think she's done. i would suggest waiting a bit before heading in.
(he heads to the bathroom again, returns again, saying)
--she's applying lotion now. but i saw that the lid was down. so's i told her that i wanted to take a dump, that way she'd open the lid to air it out a bit first.
i tell him, good thinking.
but he shakes his head, saying
--yeah but then she told me it's clogged.
Monday, December 27, 2010
Van Gogh's ear
"On Christmas Eve, 1888, in the small Provençal town of Arles, the police found Vincent van Gogh in his bed, bleeding from the head, self-bandaged and semi-conscious. Hours earlier, the Dutchman had given his severed ear to a whore. The painter was known throughout the town as a crazy drunk who shared a squalid house with Paul Gauguin. After the incident, Gauguin wound up in the South Seas, where he became the first modern “primitive”; van Gogh was hospitalized, then brought to an insane asylum, where he painted “The Starry Night” and “Cypresses.” After van Gogh’s suicide in 1890, the story of the severed ear became a talisman of modern painting. Modernism became an inspiring story of sacrifices made and sainthood attained by artists willing to lose their sanity on its behalf. Discusses van Gogh’s upbringing in a Dutch village; his breakdowns and literary influences. Tells of his move from Holland to Paris, then to Arles, and his desire for a collaborative community. Tells of his relationship with Gauguin, who had made his name as an original, an adventurer. There was something erotic, ardent, if unrealized, about van Gogh’s excitement in Gauguin’s presence. Gauguin’s paintings have more of an “abstract” quality; van Gogh had embarked on “sacred realism.”
When you see a Gauguin, you think, This man is living in a dream world. When you see a van Gogh, you think, This dream world is living in a man.
Discusses the exasperating character of van Gogh, and the character of Gauguin. Gauguin is a prime real-life case where doing the wrong thing appears to be morally justifiable, since the art made was great. Discusses Gauguin as an early example of moral luck, and as a model modern artist (of whom Picasso is the most famous realization). Discusses the revisionist version of the story put forward by Hans Kaufmann and Rita Wildegans, in which Gauguin, a skilled fencer, slices off van Gogh’s ear. Tells of van Gogh being thrown out of Arles and sent to the asylum. Quotes from van Gogh’s last letters to his brother, in which he appeared to accept his isolation and understand that, one day, there would be a community of readers and viewers who would appreciate him. The only authentic community he found was among the insane. Talks about the decisive break marked by the Christmas crisis.
Van Gogh’s ear makes its claim on our attention because it reminds us that on the outer edge there is madness to pity, meanness to deplore, and courage to admire, and we can’t ever quite keep them from each other. We gawk as painters slice off their ears, but we rely on them to make up for our own timidity. We all make our wagers, but the artist does more. He bets his life."
--Adam Gopnik
When you see a Gauguin, you think, This man is living in a dream world. When you see a van Gogh, you think, This dream world is living in a man.
Discusses the exasperating character of van Gogh, and the character of Gauguin. Gauguin is a prime real-life case where doing the wrong thing appears to be morally justifiable, since the art made was great. Discusses Gauguin as an early example of moral luck, and as a model modern artist (of whom Picasso is the most famous realization). Discusses the revisionist version of the story put forward by Hans Kaufmann and Rita Wildegans, in which Gauguin, a skilled fencer, slices off van Gogh’s ear. Tells of van Gogh being thrown out of Arles and sent to the asylum. Quotes from van Gogh’s last letters to his brother, in which he appeared to accept his isolation and understand that, one day, there would be a community of readers and viewers who would appreciate him. The only authentic community he found was among the insane. Talks about the decisive break marked by the Christmas crisis.
Van Gogh’s ear makes its claim on our attention because it reminds us that on the outer edge there is madness to pity, meanness to deplore, and courage to admire, and we can’t ever quite keep them from each other. We gawk as painters slice off their ears, but we rely on them to make up for our own timidity. We all make our wagers, but the artist does more. He bets his life."
--Adam Gopnik
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Projection
You find me captivating. I represent to you all the sins you never had the courage to commit. For that reason, too, you will always resent me.
My Bao Bei
Cherry red outfit with punchy blue socks.
Look at those pinch-ibo cheeks!
.... And that eye catching 3.
:)
You really are my favorite, too.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Favorite from FeelGood playlist
Drop your guard, you don't have to be smart all of the time
I've got a mind full of blanks,
I've got a mind full of blanks,
I need to go somewhere new fast.
And don't be shy, oh no, at least deliberately
I got music coming outta my hands and feet and kisses
This is how it once was done
All the dreamers on the run.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Muacheeeees x11
I kiss you on the brain in the shadow of a train
I kiss you all starry eyed, my body's swinging from side to side
I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else...
...but you.
I kiss you all starry eyed, my body's swinging from side to side
I don't see what anyone can see in anyone else...
...but you.
 |
| I've been so happy being yours for these 11 months! |
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Tskkkk
Annie: did u by any chance buy me a tube of aveeno baby lavender and oatmeal?
me: no
did you ask for it?
Annie: no
BUT STILL
me: ...
............
Annie: OH GEEZ
me: fans, youre missing the fact that i cannot read your pea-sized mind
Annie: oh shush up, i thought you could read whatever i was thinking.
that we're TELEPATHIC
i'm disappointed
me: omg
it's too late in the day for this kind of 38ness
Annie: lolz, okok
me: hahaha
Annie: hmm maybe i can ask jeff
but it's kinda too late
can u please facebook msg him?
me: okayyyy
send me the link
so that he can find it easier (after seeing the picture)
hehehehehheh
me: sigh
what a queen
Annie: ai yo, i didn't know i would go through my tube so fast
me: ok
i sent it to him
me: youre velly velcome
Annie: san q san q
me: sigh
yeah
dont sweat it
Annie: oh my gosh. u deserve a slap
me: huhuhu
 |
| for Fanny's baby skin |
Monday, December 20, 2010
I'd like my rug over easy, please
When I told Andy that I'm moving, he told me I should buy this for my new place:
 |
| Andy: Haha this is sooo you!! |
me: i wish u lived in ny
and we could spruce my place up together
and then u can make me pancakes :D
and i'll...uh... wash the strawberries
ahaha
Andy: could i trust you with that?
im scared you would eat them all before they got to the pancakes
me: uh of COURSE
oh
hahahaha
shush
Warm me ahp!
1:38 PM me: hellooo?
1:41 PM Andrew: hey there
1:42 PM me: im coode
Andrew: wheres my hoody?
did you give it to gavin again?
me: no he's not in the office today
1:43 PM i placed it back in your apartment a couple weeks ago
Andrew: why did you do that?
u don't want it any more?
:(
me: haha
why are you frowny?
Andrew: because u don't like my hoody anymore
1:45 PM me: i do though i deewwww
1:50 PM Andrew: did u put more snot on it is that why you don't want it
--June 21, 2010
--June 21, 2010
So much for the start
It was hard to tell just how I felt -- to not recognize myself. I started to fade away. Losing my mind for the sake of my heart.
Let it die and get out of my mind, we don't see eye to eye or hear ear to ear. Don't you wish that we could forget that kiss, and see this for what it is? That we're not in love.
Let it die and get out of my mind, we don't see eye to eye or hear ear to ear. Don't you wish that we could forget that kiss, and see this for what it is? That we're not in love.
Sunday, December 19, 2010
Saturday, December 18, 2010
No idea why this makes me laugh but it does
"Why do they pronounce Carol Hannah as Carol Honna? That's like saying Honna Montona"
-Ann while watching Project Runway
Friday, December 17, 2010
Walter Lippmann
For it is clear enough that under certain conditions men respond as powerfully to fictions as they do to realities, and that in many cases they help to create the very fictions to which they respond.
Monday, December 13, 2010
There is a home in me for you
On Kristen's birthday, I think of these:
 |
| This picture that you took over a year ago & said it symbolized hope. |
 |
| Treasures, and the unique way you perceive things. |
 |
| Magic: how the colors go where you are. |
 |
| How you identify with rough edges and see them as beauty. |
 |
| Finally, this is my favorite. This is your love. |
Friday, December 10, 2010
P.S. from Drew
"Did you know that a peanut is not really a nut? It's actually a legume? I guess the word 'peanut' sounded better than 'peagume' and it stuck.... "
--from B's email on May 18th
--from B's email on May 18th
Favorable distance
Take him for example, I want to somehow tell him that I really appreciate him and think of him as family, want to comfortably show him that I love his presence in a crowd or just in front of the t.v. but I'm unable to even relax and say what I think about anything. Is it always going to be this way between me and the people who I respect but am not as familiar with?
Maybe it's a matter of wanting to make some sort of favorable impression. I don't think it's because I feel inferior... it's not that. Something close to it, but not that.
Maybe it's a matter of wanting to make some sort of favorable impression. I don't think it's because I feel inferior... it's not that. Something close to it, but not that.
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Email from my mom
dear shiao mei,
I hope you will sleep early so that your hormon will not
get affected and you will be more healthier.
you are my sincere baby.
I LOVE YOU
mom
Sunday, December 5, 2010
Love at all
"To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it careful round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket -- safe, dark, motionless, airless -- it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable...The only place outside of Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all dangers of love is Hell."
--C.S. Lewis
In the fall
I will drive a long long distance until I can lie in the clover. There the wind will weave through my fingers and I'll feel thin blades of grass tickle the backs of my knees. My feet will hum to the orchestra of the birds as I breathe the fractured light and burnt red of September.
The process of knocking through
"My father once found Magda crying next to a one thousand year old oak tree not far from the house. She had packed a child's suitcase, though its contents were splayed around her feet. He carried her into the house, and she continued weeping in our room.
That night she admitted her compulsion to escape. She was worried that if my father drowned, or I disappeared, she would be left with nothing. By running away at least she would have the joy of knowing she was missed."
-Simon Van Booy
That night she admitted her compulsion to escape. She was worried that if my father drowned, or I disappeared, she would be left with nothing. By running away at least she would have the joy of knowing she was missed."
-Simon Van Booy
Monday, November 29, 2010
Friday, November 26, 2010
Belated Thanksgiving & 10th Month Post
Simply put, I am thankful that my cousins Tina & Harry are visiting, that Jeschia is in town, that I have a won-dee-ful famiry. Thankful for the group effort in making mac & cheese, Drew's generous (but fast depleting supply of peanut m&ms, free frozen yogurt (nevermind the unchisel-ble ice). I am thankful for Andrew who makes an unforgettable Andrewcation possible. I am thankful for our 10 months together as Bear & P.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
See clearly
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed
The hour I first believed
Hallelujah, grace like rain falls down on me
Hallelujah, all my stains are washed away, washed away
Sunday, November 21, 2010
On manhood
Me: Jordan. There are quite a number of guys who would actually be okay with being mannies. Stay-at-home mannies. Which surprises me because what about taking pride in being the Alpha Male?
Jordan: What Alpha Male. Look at me. Look at these loafers. Do these loafers look like they can support a family? You've got another think coming.
Jordan: What Alpha Male. Look at me. Look at these loafers. Do these loafers look like they can support a family? You've got another think coming.
Friday, November 19, 2010
Audre Lorde
"Every woman I have ever loved has left her print upon me,
where I loved some invaluable piece of myself apart from me—
so different that I had to stretch and grow in order to recognize her."
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Altered Herbert
Never
did I speak with her either about love
or about death
only blind taste and mute touch
used to run between us
when absorbed in ourselves
we lay close
I must peek inside her to see what she wears at her center
when she slept with her lips open
I peeked
and what
and what
would you think I caught sight of
I was expecting branches
I was expecting a bird
I was expecting a house by a lake great and silent
but there on a glass counter
I caught sight of a pair
of silk stockings
on the glass counter of the little soul
did I speak with her either about love
or about death
only blind taste and mute touch
used to run between us
when absorbed in ourselves
we lay close
I must peek inside her to see what she wears at her center
when she slept with her lips open
I peeked
and what
and what
would you think I caught sight of
I was expecting branches
I was expecting a bird
I was expecting a house by a lake great and silent
but there on a glass counter
I caught sight of a pair
of silk stockings
on the glass counter of the little soul
Ugly Christmas sweaters
I have been searching high and low for an ugly Christmas sweater with a reindeer pattern. I secretly really want one (not so secretly now, I guess). The best Christmas sweaters are ones that make you feel nostalgic for kindergarten rooms and gingerbread. Also for wreaths made out of construction paper smelling damply of Elmers glue. And it just so happens that the ugliest sweaters are the most effective in bringing back those warm feelings. While I didn't find my reindeer sweater, here are a couple that I've been eyeing. They are pretty standard, but wait till you get to the bottom.
Now check out this bad baby. It deserves honorable mention.
Now check out this bad baby. It deserves honorable mention.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Scattered thoughts on Boston
Cobblestones and wooden shutters make up Acorn Street. Peeking into windows here is altogether different from peering into New York ones. Here are residential homes that feel more permanent, rooted. He tells me he loves Beacon Hill, how history leaves no corner untouched.
My forest green scarf is too thin but he brought his grey striped scarf for me. Standing in front of John Hancock's tomb, signers of the Declaration of Independence -- "Don't point with your feet, hunny." I feel bad like a child about my mistake and give his arm a slight squeeze, tell those resting that I'm sorry.
Sunlight splitting branches. The air smells free.
In the car he asks if I like trees when they're bare or when they're fat with leaves. Bald branches look like feathers from a distance, but up close they are threatening. So I conclude that I like bamboos. He likes big, old trees -- ones that have been around since forever, he says.
I feel this happy inner seed in me.
Eating tiramisu while propped against two pillows, sitting side by side on a Quincy market bench scooping up creamy clam chowder. His lobster roll is overflowing. At Shabu-zen, we have watermelon slushies that go down to our bellies smoothly, it tastes the way all watermelon slushies are supposed to.
Seeing Jess' shoes before I see her face. How do you love and trust in Him -- what does that mean? She sits in the backseat and when I talk about J.D. Salinger's "Pretty Mouth and Green My Eyes," I turn my head toward the window because that's the best I can do to face her. And how is screenwriting? A little bit of aggression is an essential component when it comes to kissing. "I can't be doing all the work," she says. We consider the appeal, effectiveness and possibility of using okcupid and match.com. We marvel at throws, at pillows and later, in the hotel lobby, at the male psyche. Wine improves her sense of direction. During this trip I learn that she finds hot pot appalling.
"All parks sound the same."
Travel through gridded streets, recite them alphabetically. Arlington, Berkeley, (what's C? Clarrrerendon? -- Clarendon), Dartmouth, Exeter (like the boarding school? -- Yes -- talks of preps in ties). Newbury in the night, Newbury in daytime. Flashbacks of shopping there with Ann. Drew tells me, The Europeans used to sit in front of Armani. Drew tells me a lot of things from his life in Boston. I listen with warm intrigue; I would like a second round of his memories.
My forest green scarf is too thin but he brought his grey striped scarf for me. Standing in front of John Hancock's tomb, signers of the Declaration of Independence -- "Don't point with your feet, hunny." I feel bad like a child about my mistake and give his arm a slight squeeze, tell those resting that I'm sorry.
Sunlight splitting branches. The air smells free.
In the car he asks if I like trees when they're bare or when they're fat with leaves. Bald branches look like feathers from a distance, but up close they are threatening. So I conclude that I like bamboos. He likes big, old trees -- ones that have been around since forever, he says.
I feel this happy inner seed in me.
Eating tiramisu while propped against two pillows, sitting side by side on a Quincy market bench scooping up creamy clam chowder. His lobster roll is overflowing. At Shabu-zen, we have watermelon slushies that go down to our bellies smoothly, it tastes the way all watermelon slushies are supposed to.
Seeing Jess' shoes before I see her face. How do you love and trust in Him -- what does that mean? She sits in the backseat and when I talk about J.D. Salinger's "Pretty Mouth and Green My Eyes," I turn my head toward the window because that's the best I can do to face her. And how is screenwriting? A little bit of aggression is an essential component when it comes to kissing. "I can't be doing all the work," she says. We consider the appeal, effectiveness and possibility of using okcupid and match.com. We marvel at throws, at pillows and later, in the hotel lobby, at the male psyche. Wine improves her sense of direction. During this trip I learn that she finds hot pot appalling.
"All parks sound the same."
Travel through gridded streets, recite them alphabetically. Arlington, Berkeley, (what's C? Clarrrerendon? -- Clarendon), Dartmouth, Exeter (like the boarding school? -- Yes -- talks of preps in ties). Newbury in the night, Newbury in daytime. Flashbacks of shopping there with Ann. Drew tells me, The Europeans used to sit in front of Armani. Drew tells me a lot of things from his life in Boston. I listen with warm intrigue; I would like a second round of his memories.
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Going away
Every time I'm about to go on a trip, I have to cut my nails. I'm not sure when and why it has become a prerequisite. But it makes me feel clean and ready.
Drew and I are going to Boston for the weekend!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This is one of those times that calls for a blaring sequence of exclamation marks. I feel a lot of joy.
Drew and I are going to Boston for the weekend!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
This is one of those times that calls for a blaring sequence of exclamation marks. I feel a lot of joy.
Wednesday, November 10, 2010
The deaf violinist
"She once told me that she loved me because I was the only thing she could hear. She can feel the vibration of the strings through the carved vessel of her instrument, but I am inside her. I am a song soaked into each bone of her secret body where the world has not been able to wander."
--Simon Van Booy
--Simon Van Booy
Monday, November 8, 2010
Delicacy
Today I invented a new snack. And because I am transcendently generous, I will share it with all of you. Behold.  |
| Almonde wrapped with string cheese |
Friday, November 5, 2010
Forget what has swallowed you
I land in a room where promises and good china collide, both broken for the same reason.
There in that room, that's where I find it --
the small-knotted fist: your jealousy.
how we so often mistook it for love.
There in that room, that's where I find it --
the small-knotted fist: your jealousy.
how we so often mistook it for love.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
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