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Friday, February 20, 2004
I had a hundred things to write about today- the pictures at yahoo.com of the marriages in San Francisco, the greatness of the Indiana Jones series, the strange pain deep in my left shoulder blade, my lack of understanding for people who hate gay people, the terrific loaf of bread we bought today, you know, all the major events in my life, but I've just received an email from my friend Mike in Hollywood. Mike was robbed at gunpoint tonight, with several of his friends. None of them were hurt- that is, no one got shot. But Mike puts the rest of us to shame with his goodness, his kindness, his humor, and his ridiculous good looks. Sometimes I can't bear to look at him because his beauty almost hurts. And someone pointed a gun into his face tonight, seemingly ready to end his life if he didn't hand over his wallet and UNC watch.
I know this kind of stuff happens every day to people all over the world. Whatever. This simply should not, could not happen to Mike. I can't allow it, can't allow for it in my head.
I know this kind of stuff happens every day to people all over the world. Whatever. This simply should not, could not happen to Mike. I can't allow it, can't allow for it in my head.
Thursday, February 19, 2004
I have to say that I sympathize with Bud in his lack of time for blogging. I'd love to have time to do it every night, but sometimes when it's 4 AM and you have to wake up at 9, you simply choose sleep.
I'm in New York, and have had a strange experience so far. My flight here was a blast- my mom decided at the last minute to fly with me, so she met me at the airport and we drank beer and watched DVDs on my laptop as we sailed above the country. In fact, we inspired our whole row to drink beer with us and our terribly nice and extraordinarly gay flight attendant was our sweet, sweet bartender.
I didn't plan this trip, and therefore missed out on an important opportunity: looking forward to it. I wasn't really prepared to be here, prepared to see my friends and family, prepared to leave my little life in St Helena. My first steps onto Union Square, usually filled with wonder and joy, were instead a little confused and almost odd. Rather than feeling like home, the very buildings reminded me of the naysayers, the fuglies, the unfortunates who decided to make me feel unwelcome in this city. There have always been those who persecuted me for who I am: not jaded, not bitter, and although frequently conflicted or sad, unwilling to bleed said sadness all over my co-workers. In Hollywood, the joke was I that I must have been totally hopped up on Prozac. In New York, the few arseholes decided I was only half a person. What only a precious few noticed was that I actually know the meaning of professionalism in the workplace, and also a sense of decorum and privacy. I was persecuted by most because I didn't lay my faults and problems bare the minute I walked in the door every day.
I was left to wonder, however briefly, how many friends I actually have in this city. And is this really my home?
But then I remembered that I spent yesterday with the beautiful and wonderful Kellie, and then today was blessed with a few hours of Mollie (who may live in Napa but is from New York, so she counts) followed by dinner with Damon and drinks with Ms. B and Megan. It's too easy to be overwhelmed with the folks from the Dark Side, too easy to forget about the ones who've been nothing but good from the day I met them. I've got these folks, and Hayley, and all in her clan, all of whom are, in every way, as good as it gets.
It feels strange not be torn. I realize now that I will hang on to these few people here, as I know I'll hang on to my newer friends in Napa. There is room, so much more room now in my heart for all of them now that I stopped waiting tables, now that I have a ton more juice in my caregiving psyche. Now I have room to try to be a good daughter and a good friend and I find it to be a negotiable challenge. But I'm not here wishing that I could stay forever. I am here, enjoying myself, and when it's time to go back to California I'll be excited and ready for my new job. That is, if this job ever gets off the ground. But that's a whole nother story.
But... it's all good, and for various reasons I've extended my stay here until a week from today. I just hope there's enough eggs in the fridge cuz my wallet is suddenly filled with cobwebs and a painted wooden sign saying "GO AWAY".
I'm in New York, and have had a strange experience so far. My flight here was a blast- my mom decided at the last minute to fly with me, so she met me at the airport and we drank beer and watched DVDs on my laptop as we sailed above the country. In fact, we inspired our whole row to drink beer with us and our terribly nice and extraordinarly gay flight attendant was our sweet, sweet bartender.
I didn't plan this trip, and therefore missed out on an important opportunity: looking forward to it. I wasn't really prepared to be here, prepared to see my friends and family, prepared to leave my little life in St Helena. My first steps onto Union Square, usually filled with wonder and joy, were instead a little confused and almost odd. Rather than feeling like home, the very buildings reminded me of the naysayers, the fuglies, the unfortunates who decided to make me feel unwelcome in this city. There have always been those who persecuted me for who I am: not jaded, not bitter, and although frequently conflicted or sad, unwilling to bleed said sadness all over my co-workers. In Hollywood, the joke was I that I must have been totally hopped up on Prozac. In New York, the few arseholes decided I was only half a person. What only a precious few noticed was that I actually know the meaning of professionalism in the workplace, and also a sense of decorum and privacy. I was persecuted by most because I didn't lay my faults and problems bare the minute I walked in the door every day.
I was left to wonder, however briefly, how many friends I actually have in this city. And is this really my home?
But then I remembered that I spent yesterday with the beautiful and wonderful Kellie, and then today was blessed with a few hours of Mollie (who may live in Napa but is from New York, so she counts) followed by dinner with Damon and drinks with Ms. B and Megan. It's too easy to be overwhelmed with the folks from the Dark Side, too easy to forget about the ones who've been nothing but good from the day I met them. I've got these folks, and Hayley, and all in her clan, all of whom are, in every way, as good as it gets.
It feels strange not be torn. I realize now that I will hang on to these few people here, as I know I'll hang on to my newer friends in Napa. There is room, so much more room now in my heart for all of them now that I stopped waiting tables, now that I have a ton more juice in my caregiving psyche. Now I have room to try to be a good daughter and a good friend and I find it to be a negotiable challenge. But I'm not here wishing that I could stay forever. I am here, enjoying myself, and when it's time to go back to California I'll be excited and ready for my new job. That is, if this job ever gets off the ground. But that's a whole nother story.
But... it's all good, and for various reasons I've extended my stay here until a week from today. I just hope there's enough eggs in the fridge cuz my wallet is suddenly filled with cobwebs and a painted wooden sign saying "GO AWAY".
Tuesday, February 17, 2004
I am writing under the influence of much Grenache, Chateneuf-de-Pape, T-Vine, Alban, et al, so I will not be clear. Be clear on that at least.
Yet another great night, but I have to get up to pack and get on a flight.
More importantly, the goodness emanating from the steps of city hall in San Francisco is enough to make everthing okay.
I was at yet another wine dinner tonight, but only three of the five of us could attend, and still we spent well over three hours cooking, and what a night, what a night. The last hour I spent playing "Michelle's Favorite Hits from Whenever" including Nickel Creek, Alanis Morisette (a song you've never heard), Billy Joel, Barenaked Ladies, Seal, and many others. Currently we are drinking sherry and I'm considering Lyfe in Genral.
Love to all who stood in the rain and sun to get married this weekend.
Yet another great night, but I have to get up to pack and get on a flight.
More importantly, the goodness emanating from the steps of city hall in San Francisco is enough to make everthing okay.
I was at yet another wine dinner tonight, but only three of the five of us could attend, and still we spent well over three hours cooking, and what a night, what a night. The last hour I spent playing "Michelle's Favorite Hits from Whenever" including Nickel Creek, Alanis Morisette (a song you've never heard), Billy Joel, Barenaked Ladies, Seal, and many others. Currently we are drinking sherry and I'm considering Lyfe in Genral.
Love to all who stood in the rain and sun to get married this weekend.
Sunday, February 15, 2004
It's amazing to me, the phenomenon of turning on your light when a nightmare wakes you in the dark. Suddenly the nightmare is clearly just imagination. It seems to be the same of what I think might be really good in my life. All I need to do is turn a spotlight onto it and I realize that it's not necessarily really good, it just is what it is.
This Valentine's day was three years single for me. Three years is a long, long, long forkin' time. It makes me think, is all. I've not been without dates, not been without the company of men, but I've chosen to not fall in love. Interesting choice, isn't it? I mean, why? It's worth exploring, and also worth exploring what it is that I want now. I have had moments of thinking, AHA! THIS is what I want. And then I shine a light on it and I realize that it just isn't. It just isn't what I want.
I knew I wanted two things: a good group of friends and a job I liked. I've found the former and I'm working really hard on the latter. I'm moving forwards in that arena, and only time will tell if this new job is going to make me happy.
I'm off to New York in two days, and strangely, I wasn't sure I wanted to go. I wasn't sure that I wanted to miss what will be happening here while I was gone. What would be happening in my life here. My life here. (I have a life?!)
Clearly I'm not tracking. I'm thinking about dooce's new baby (dooce.com- if you haven't checked it out, you are missing out on one of the best writers of my lifetime) and about waking up at 6:15 to sear off some of my new chub (incurred while not being able to walk on my poor little sick feet). So I am off to bed, with nothing more than these random, silly, but slightly contented thoughts.
This Valentine's day was three years single for me. Three years is a long, long, long forkin' time. It makes me think, is all. I've not been without dates, not been without the company of men, but I've chosen to not fall in love. Interesting choice, isn't it? I mean, why? It's worth exploring, and also worth exploring what it is that I want now. I have had moments of thinking, AHA! THIS is what I want. And then I shine a light on it and I realize that it just isn't. It just isn't what I want.
I knew I wanted two things: a good group of friends and a job I liked. I've found the former and I'm working really hard on the latter. I'm moving forwards in that arena, and only time will tell if this new job is going to make me happy.
I'm off to New York in two days, and strangely, I wasn't sure I wanted to go. I wasn't sure that I wanted to miss what will be happening here while I was gone. What would be happening in my life here. My life here. (I have a life?!)
Clearly I'm not tracking. I'm thinking about dooce's new baby (dooce.com- if you haven't checked it out, you are missing out on one of the best writers of my lifetime) and about waking up at 6:15 to sear off some of my new chub (incurred while not being able to walk on my poor little sick feet). So I am off to bed, with nothing more than these random, silly, but slightly contented thoughts.