Wednesday, October 31, 2007
What I really wish
For a lifestyle and job that allows the life that I would enjoy: simply put, walking my dog, cooking simple but good food and every once in awhile exploring what is around me (for a start); rather than having a skill set that puts me in a job i fucking hate.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
What I Wish
It is very important to me that I have made a positive impact on bp. That all of that was not for nuthin' as they say around these parts. I allowed that boy to put me through the wringer, to put me through all kinds of agony. I don't think all of it was for naught. I sincerely believe that he shook me out of whatever the fuck it was that mired me down in Lubbock and got me here. Got me to think about and make basic steps toward doing whatever it is I'm supposed to do. Now, I, so it won't be for nuthin, I have to figure it out and do it. Anyway, I vacillitate between wanting him to be fucking miserable because we are no longer communicating (and heart breakingly, knowing that he's not) and wanting him to feel like he was blessed (like they say around the parts I come from) for knowing me, just like I feel (i can't believe I'm saying this) blessed for knowing him.
Time has passed, and so the intensity of all these feelings is lessening. But all of it is still there.
stupid assed boy.
Time has passed, and so the intensity of all these feelings is lessening. But all of it is still there.
stupid assed boy.
well it's official
i've done everything that can possibly done at that organization . . . from scrubbing toilets to writing an "article" in the newspaper and everything else in between (and trust me, that amounts to alot of various and sundries).
that means: i can go now.
that means: i can go now.
Saturday, October 27, 2007
another 16 hours
of pretty much straight sleep. with a 5 min jaunt around the block with bg this am. haven't slept that soundly since the last 16 hours of sleep. jesus.
Wednesday, October 24, 2007
I fucking hate nyc
not so much the city (mostly because i haven't seen enough of it to form an actual opinion). But what it takes to live here. I'm about to fucking lose it. i hate this, i hate this, i hate this, i hate this, i hate this, i hate this, i hate this, i hate this, i hate this, i hate this, i hate this, i hate this, i hate this, i hate this, i hate it.
Tuesday, October 23, 2007
San Diego
Natural Disasters, or not so natural (such as 9/11). I think that when you go through something like that, you just take . . . things . . . in . . . stride.
I am a bit (just a bit) beside myself because of one or two or three or four people I know in the area. They all tell me there are safe. I will believe them. What else can I do?
I do wonder what my folks thought back in the the summer of 88 when I was backpacking/canoing in Yellowstone . I don't ever remember having a conversation about it. I was on a guided backpacking trip where we would hike for a week in various national parks, stock up on supplies on the weekends, and then go back out. Climbed the Grand Tetons, even. It was a great easy introduction to backpacking and, for someone in the deep south, a great way to meet people from other parts of the country. Now that I think about it, one of those pivotal moments in how you interact/view the word. Viscerally, I've never seen so many stars in my life, I've never been routinely so hungry, so thirsty, so full of pain (you should have seen my feet afterwards), so content and full and peaceful and in awe of the physical feats we accomplished and the mental feats it took to persevere. They called me the Little Tank. Howinever, we were out in the middle of the Yellowstone fire of 88. I remember watching the cloud of smoke approach us over a couple or three days (we were camping on an island in the middle of the park, with moose and other fauna wandering nearby) and then one day, we canoed our way out (with rumors and eventually sightings of helicopters). Not to mention in the narrows the firemen and the trees exploding, and the covering of our faces with bandannas as we canoed on out of there. very calmly as i remember. i don't remember panic. fear, yes. concern. a bit of what the fuck. but trust in the leaders and not panic.
in 2002, i was teaching a sociology class and this kid, this wonderful, intelligent and glorious kid decided he would tell his story of 9/11. He had been a participant in NOLS when that shit went down. If I remember correctly, he had been in the back country for about 3 months, and their leaders thought they shouldn't tell them about it. I mean, I guess, what could they DO about it anyway? They were so far removed .. . . So, these kids emerged from their otherworldly, life changing experience into a brand new American landscape. I dunno. As I am drunk and rambling, it just seemed poignant. I hadn't thought about him or his story in a while. He was a such a good kid. I got to write him a letter of recommendation. Early on in your career, it is such a pleasure and honor; and such fun.
They are comparing S.D. to Katrina now.
I am a bit (just a bit) beside myself because of one or two or three or four people I know in the area. They all tell me there are safe. I will believe them. What else can I do?
I do wonder what my folks thought back in the the summer of 88 when I was backpacking/canoing in Yellowstone . I don't ever remember having a conversation about it. I was on a guided backpacking trip where we would hike for a week in various national parks, stock up on supplies on the weekends, and then go back out. Climbed the Grand Tetons, even. It was a great easy introduction to backpacking and, for someone in the deep south, a great way to meet people from other parts of the country. Now that I think about it, one of those pivotal moments in how you interact/view the word. Viscerally, I've never seen so many stars in my life, I've never been routinely so hungry, so thirsty, so full of pain (you should have seen my feet afterwards), so content and full and peaceful and in awe of the physical feats we accomplished and the mental feats it took to persevere. They called me the Little Tank. Howinever, we were out in the middle of the Yellowstone fire of 88. I remember watching the cloud of smoke approach us over a couple or three days (we were camping on an island in the middle of the park, with moose and other fauna wandering nearby) and then one day, we canoed our way out (with rumors and eventually sightings of helicopters). Not to mention in the narrows the firemen and the trees exploding, and the covering of our faces with bandannas as we canoed on out of there. very calmly as i remember. i don't remember panic. fear, yes. concern. a bit of what the fuck. but trust in the leaders and not panic.
in 2002, i was teaching a sociology class and this kid, this wonderful, intelligent and glorious kid decided he would tell his story of 9/11. He had been a participant in NOLS when that shit went down. If I remember correctly, he had been in the back country for about 3 months, and their leaders thought they shouldn't tell them about it. I mean, I guess, what could they DO about it anyway? They were so far removed .. . . So, these kids emerged from their otherworldly, life changing experience into a brand new American landscape. I dunno. As I am drunk and rambling, it just seemed poignant. I hadn't thought about him or his story in a while. He was a such a good kid. I got to write him a letter of recommendation. Early on in your career, it is such a pleasure and honor; and such fun.
They are comparing S.D. to Katrina now.
Monday, October 22, 2007
So today.
It's not that I don't like people, it's just that they wear me out. I can only take so much. Saturday, after a day of listening to people bitch about their parks (you people are SERIOUS about your parks), I actually yelled at a person (omg, can you IMAGINE ;) and elbowed my way out of the subway system because they just weren't moving fast enough for my taste. Traffic stopped to let me thru. Even though, I had had ENUFF; ultimately, i just felt silly. But, at least i was OUT> Went to work today, and one day to recupe/prepare just doesn't work for me. The train remained packed for the entire trip and I had to put my hand over my mouth so as not to yell as someone along the way (even though I had a primo seat). I mean, it's not that bad, really, but there are those pivotal moments that escalate when you can see the break, the release. If you can just hoooold ooooooon. know what i mean? I about ran out of the station this am. This evening was no different. The employees at the bodega where i emerged 2nite were all concerned, "What the hell happened to you?" was pretty much the consensus. I love my nabe.
Quotes that flew around me, at me, out of me in the past 24 hours:
Quotes that flew around me, at me, out of me in the past 24 hours:
- I was in a state of constant subway rage. Now, I've moved on to ROAD rage!!!!
- I'm a Muslim, I don't have to follow common sense.
- Today is a Good Day.
- Bye Lady!
- Are we all happy?
- You don't know what you have in your hand.
- Oh. Okay. So that's the way it's gonna be . . .
- I told C. about the rumors. Her trust is too much to lose.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Me n the World
I certainly get off track (and have a penchant for being a magnet for intense, strong-willed, weird and/or needy men-boys). And, I am realizing, I have a combination strong instinctual navigation device/dumb-ass luck system that puts me where I need to be, you know "the right place at the right time". It, though sometimes dormant, has always been a part of how I make my way. When I unequivocally put my mind to something (small or large, and not in a complaining way, but a clear intention), it tends to occur.
What I DO with it, however, it is a complete other matter. . . sigh.
Soooo . . .
NOW ~~ I need confidence in my insight and voicing and/or acting on it at the appropriate moment.
NOW ~~ I need to de-magnetize myself from the aforementioned intense, strong-willed, weird and/or needy men-boys (or women, for that matter . . .). Seriously, dude.
What I DO with it, however, it is a complete other matter. . . sigh.
Soooo . . .
NOW ~~ I need confidence in my insight and voicing and/or acting on it at the appropriate moment.
NOW ~~ I need to de-magnetize myself from the aforementioned intense, strong-willed, weird and/or needy men-boys (or women, for that matter . . .). Seriously, dude.
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
lost friend
I always thought that bp and I would be in each others' lives for a long time, that we were, above all, confidants and supportive friends. Because I always suspected that he was ambiguous about his sexuality and that one day, he would come out of the closet. He is a fantastic lover, and is very open and curious about sex. He is also highly adept at creating an enveloping sexual intimacy that is as addictive as any drug.
But mostly, what I always thought, was that one day, he would become comfortable with being gay. That he would announce this to me (in between all the huffing and deep exhales that punctuated our more difficult conversations) and I would mourn the lost experience of being his lover. But, that I would get over it and that it would strangely deepen our bond (and loosen the binds): that we were above all, confidants and supportive friends.
I just miss him, still.
But mostly, what I always thought, was that one day, he would become comfortable with being gay. That he would announce this to me (in between all the huffing and deep exhales that punctuated our more difficult conversations) and I would mourn the lost experience of being his lover. But, that I would get over it and that it would strangely deepen our bond (and loosen the binds): that we were above all, confidants and supportive friends.
I just miss him, still.
My New Book
Exploring NYC's Underground: Life on the D Train (or, how to get to the Bronx from Brooklyn and back in three hours)
Chapter 1: How to Spot a Tourist
They look happy.
Chapter 2: Peeking Above Ground
Home
Demographics: Hispanic, Eastern European, Asian, Muslim (in black dress), Hipsters
Coffee Shop: Dunkin Donuts
Alcohol: A round including 3 cocktails and 3 beers (excluding tip): $40
Nature: Dogs at the off-leash areas!!!!! Dirt paths you DO NOT go down.
Eligible bachelors: Old men, hipsters
Work
Demographics: Hispanic, Eastern European, Asian, Muslim (in bright dress), Hippies
Coffee Shop: Bodegas
Alcohol: A round including 3 shots and 3 beers (including tip): $16
Nature: dilapidated dog-run. Black squirrels (who knew?)
Eligible bachelors: Thugs
Chapter 3: Other Trains/Other Times
The D train ~~ Low energy, molded seats (everyone knows their spot) in a 7os fall themed palette. Each conductor has his or her own personality/cadence that signals whether or not you'll be late for work.
The 4 train ~~ High energy, new fangled (bench seats: everyone CRAMS in and very narrow thru-way: everyone CRAMS in) Fluorescent lights, chatty, LOUD and pre-recorded conductor spiels. How the hell are you supposed to know what time it is? Oh! It's on the marquee!!
Other Lines ~~ Wait. There are OTHER trains? OMG!
Morning: Standing room only (unless you are on the 4, then it's Packed - in - so - tight - you - don't - have - to - hold - on - to - anything). Either way, usually, blessedly quiet.
Daytime: Crazy people and people picky about their seats. Usually solitary (unless they are tourists, who look happy)
Evening: Standing Room Only, though typically chatter and some very exhausted souls. On the lucky occasion: train break-dancers; the one-armed harmonica player; the mariachi band (haven't seen those guys in a while . . .); the warbling spare change guy; the evangelist (in many incarnations)
Late Night: Very tired minimum wage people coming home from work, bright eyed intellectuals and and the occasional drunk ass (guess which category i fall into . . . ) BTW, most of the afore mentioned categories occupied by men.
Chapter 4: How to Position Oneself While Riding in the Subway or Can I drink NOW or Is it possible to Stand, Drink AND read a newspaper? What about a magazine? a book?
Chapter 1: How to Spot a Tourist
They look happy.
Chapter 2: Peeking Above Ground
Home
Demographics: Hispanic, Eastern European, Asian, Muslim (in black dress), Hipsters
Coffee Shop: Dunkin Donuts
Alcohol: A round including 3 cocktails and 3 beers (excluding tip): $40
Nature: Dogs at the off-leash areas!!!!! Dirt paths you DO NOT go down.
Eligible bachelors: Old men, hipsters
Work
Demographics: Hispanic, Eastern European, Asian, Muslim (in bright dress), Hippies
Coffee Shop: Bodegas
Alcohol: A round including 3 shots and 3 beers (including tip): $16
Nature: dilapidated dog-run. Black squirrels (who knew?)
Eligible bachelors: Thugs
Chapter 3: Other Trains/Other Times
The D train ~~ Low energy, molded seats (everyone knows their spot) in a 7os fall themed palette. Each conductor has his or her own personality/cadence that signals whether or not you'll be late for work.
The 4 train ~~ High energy, new fangled (bench seats: everyone CRAMS in and very narrow thru-way: everyone CRAMS in) Fluorescent lights, chatty, LOUD and pre-recorded conductor spiels. How the hell are you supposed to know what time it is? Oh! It's on the marquee!!
Other Lines ~~ Wait. There are OTHER trains? OMG!
Morning: Standing room only (unless you are on the 4, then it's Packed - in - so - tight - you - don't - have - to - hold - on - to - anything). Either way, usually, blessedly quiet.
Daytime: Crazy people and people picky about their seats. Usually solitary (unless they are tourists, who look happy)
Evening: Standing Room Only, though typically chatter and some very exhausted souls. On the lucky occasion: train break-dancers; the one-armed harmonica player; the mariachi band (haven't seen those guys in a while . . .); the warbling spare change guy; the evangelist (in many incarnations)
Late Night: Very tired minimum wage people coming home from work, bright eyed intellectuals and and the occasional drunk ass (guess which category i fall into . . . ) BTW, most of the afore mentioned categories occupied by men.
Chapter 4: How to Position Oneself While Riding in the Subway or Can I drink NOW or Is it possible to Stand, Drink AND read a newspaper? What about a magazine? a book?
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
What pisses me off
thinking about every single fucking cent.
having no time for anything but work, recovering from work and preparing for work.
the fact that my 11 year old dog is trapped in this apartment with me and whose current "job" seems to be as a barometer for my moods. If I come home unaware of his presence (therefore seething about something) he slinks away from me. He now stands in the doorframe of the adjacent room to determine whether or not he's going to greet me. This (and only dog lovers would really get this) is a VERY BAD sign.
the loss (as i've mentioned before) of the ability to do the things i actually like to do (including hiking with my dog).
i really, really, really hate this version of life. the others were slowly strangling me to death. this one is grrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiinddddddddddddddddddddddddding me down. Slowly enough to feel it, but a whole helluva lot more quick than the vines that were tightening around my neck in the Deep South. Here, my skin has been scraped off and now the nerves and muscles are showing . . .
It's that "well, if you don't like it, go back home" time. And I really don't want to go back home. And I really don't want to wander somewhere else just goes this ain't working. And I really don't want to give up on NY or Brooklyn. But I really got to change something. I'm worried that any change won't be fast enough cause I'm getting to "that point". The one that either I do something drastic with no safety net (like, within a 4 month period, deciding to and actually moving to ny), or some diaster/trama/drama happens to make things change because I didn't take things into my own hands before the bad thing happened (like, getting pregnant by BP).
The time to move on, whatever it looks like, is upon me. And I better do something quick-like.
And what about that raise? The new fiscal year is upon us, is it not?
having no time for anything but work, recovering from work and preparing for work.
the fact that my 11 year old dog is trapped in this apartment with me and whose current "job" seems to be as a barometer for my moods. If I come home unaware of his presence (therefore seething about something) he slinks away from me. He now stands in the doorframe of the adjacent room to determine whether or not he's going to greet me. This (and only dog lovers would really get this) is a VERY BAD sign.
the loss (as i've mentioned before) of the ability to do the things i actually like to do (including hiking with my dog).
i really, really, really hate this version of life. the others were slowly strangling me to death. this one is grrrrriiiiiiiiiiiiiinddddddddddddddddddddddddding me down. Slowly enough to feel it, but a whole helluva lot more quick than the vines that were tightening around my neck in the Deep South. Here, my skin has been scraped off and now the nerves and muscles are showing . . .
It's that "well, if you don't like it, go back home" time. And I really don't want to go back home. And I really don't want to wander somewhere else just goes this ain't working. And I really don't want to give up on NY or Brooklyn. But I really got to change something. I'm worried that any change won't be fast enough cause I'm getting to "that point". The one that either I do something drastic with no safety net (like, within a 4 month period, deciding to and actually moving to ny), or some diaster/trama/drama happens to make things change because I didn't take things into my own hands before the bad thing happened (like, getting pregnant by BP).
The time to move on, whatever it looks like, is upon me. And I better do something quick-like.
And what about that raise? The new fiscal year is upon us, is it not?
# 10
i've been walking around with a seething anger I didn't even recognize. Don't even know how long it's been there. Years? Months? pre/post BP? I have no clue. I just know it's there. And it's time to do something about it.
Monday, October 15, 2007
realization #9
I fucking hate this. I fucking HATE this. I hate having a 9-5 (or in my case, a 10-6). I hate that my fucking work day ends up being an 11 hour day, due to the (total) THREE hour daily commute. I hate that I have to kiss everybody ass that I work with because my approach is so vastly different that they don't what to make of me. I hate that because my non-profit salary job is also in the field of community development, in order to do a 1/2 way decent job, you are also supposed to work many nights per week and saturdays during the lovely seasons of spring and fall (because, you see, that is when communities can actually, well, develop, as they all have full time jobs, too). I hate that if I actually DID this, that eventually, the salary that I would make where I'm working, is 1/3 less than what grant writers in the city would make at 1/2 those people's ages. While I love doing something different everyday, I hate that my energies at work are so scattered that I can't do any one thing decently. I hate that I have no energy/time/money/geographical impossibility to do the things that I actually enjoy: from hiking with my fucking dog to spending a saturday cooking (this is what i used to do in lubbock to stave off the misery of west texas). I think I've "explored" maybe 5 times in the year and 3 months I've lived here. On occasion I'll stop by the neighborhood restaurant for a meal.
What the fuck? I could be living off a whole helluva lot less, and having a whole helluva LOT MORE MOTHER FUCKING FUN living somewhere else. No wonder I keep lamenting about the good ole very drunken days of west texas and the deep south.
I also hate that my cheering section as started saying things like, "Well, at least you know, if you hadn't taken that chance, you'd wonder until the day you died". Jesus. That's about the WORST reason to delve into the unknown that I can think of right about now. New York and BP. Two things I feel like I coulda done without the "experience", just so you could say you tried it. Give me a fucking break. I'm getting real fucking tired of these "experiences" and just want to what I'm supposed to be doing. Whatever the fuck that might be. Cuz, this sure as hell ain't it.
What the fuck? I could be living off a whole helluva lot less, and having a whole helluva LOT MORE MOTHER FUCKING FUN living somewhere else. No wonder I keep lamenting about the good ole very drunken days of west texas and the deep south.
I also hate that my cheering section as started saying things like, "Well, at least you know, if you hadn't taken that chance, you'd wonder until the day you died". Jesus. That's about the WORST reason to delve into the unknown that I can think of right about now. New York and BP. Two things I feel like I coulda done without the "experience", just so you could say you tried it. Give me a fucking break. I'm getting real fucking tired of these "experiences" and just want to what I'm supposed to be doing. Whatever the fuck that might be. Cuz, this sure as hell ain't it.
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Lovely neighbors, II
This past weekend, I was a bit under the weather . . . went to the corner grocery store to get juice, etc. Ran into my upstairs neighbor. He took one look at me, kissed my cheek, and said, "For supper, I will make chicken soup, and I will bring it to you" (he's from venezuela, and has a wonderful way with the english language). And he did. Two hours later, a gentle knock on the door and there he was . . . with a huge bowl of hot, homemade chicken soup. Such a rich broth and tender chicken and potatoes and scallions and just a bit of celery. I was well within five minutes.
Wednesday, after drinking way too much with colleagues, i randomly called my upstairs neighbor. he immediately ushered me to his apartment and fed me more of his now famous homemade soup. I love him. This guy was my stand in landlord when I first moved in (our landlord was gone to spain for the summer). Again, he took one look at me (Not only had I been driving cross country for four days from lubbock, I had just driven through a rainstorm so thick that I couldn't see any of the cars all around me when crossing the verrazono bridge . . . this from a girl who has driven on strictly rural roads her entire life), and decided that he and his son were going to empty my car, take my stuff up one flight of stairs AND go into the basement to find the a/c that was rumored to be left by my friend who used to live here, like 2 1/2 years ago, and install it for me.
So, tonight, I feed him for a change. I have nothing to say about it except that I'm so glad that my energy and general good cheer has returned so that I can start returning some of the unconditional support that I have gotten since I've moved here. Honestly, I love my neighbors.
Wednesday, after drinking way too much with colleagues, i randomly called my upstairs neighbor. he immediately ushered me to his apartment and fed me more of his now famous homemade soup. I love him. This guy was my stand in landlord when I first moved in (our landlord was gone to spain for the summer). Again, he took one look at me (Not only had I been driving cross country for four days from lubbock, I had just driven through a rainstorm so thick that I couldn't see any of the cars all around me when crossing the verrazono bridge . . . this from a girl who has driven on strictly rural roads her entire life), and decided that he and his son were going to empty my car, take my stuff up one flight of stairs AND go into the basement to find the a/c that was rumored to be left by my friend who used to live here, like 2 1/2 years ago, and install it for me.
So, tonight, I feed him for a change. I have nothing to say about it except that I'm so glad that my energy and general good cheer has returned so that I can start returning some of the unconditional support that I have gotten since I've moved here. Honestly, I love my neighbors.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Tuesday, October 9, 2007
Sunday, October 7, 2007
what to do on a random sunday night
catch an unexpected express train into town, carrying bourbon and ginger ale (with a twist of lime to try and cut the sweet) in red solo cups. know you ain't fooling nobody, especially when wearing brightly colored t-shirts and talking about private matters loudly and in full-on southern accents (though both of us having a certain subway stance savvy that throws the observant, well, observer, especially when discussions ~~ and going from sitting to standing on cue ~~ veer from wrong doing man -boys to the astounding view of Lady Liberty, the brooklyn bridge and the lights of the city as we trundle over the manhattan bridge). I have to admit, that was kinda fun.
Get out at 8th St. Make a detour to walk by Grace Church just cuz it looks pretty, and even though I hadn't been in a church in several years before I moved here, I seem to get drawn in by that church in one way or another every time (okay, both times) I've been in it's proximity. It was the first (and probably only) 30 minutes of absolute silence and reverent stillness I've experienced since I've gotten here. Too bad it was closed this night (or maybe not ;) Get back on task: booze, eventually korean food.
McSorley's. My compatriot, in true used-to-live-in-NYC form, decided that the pot-bellied stove and centuries old dust covering the chandelier was just not fittin' the bill. Actually, I was in agreement, as we were totally in cocktail mode: McSorely's only serves their own brewed beer. I can't wait to get back.
The first on task stop, KGB bar. The bartender actually asked us if we wanted him to turn off the tv. The ancient, vertical push-button, rabbit-eared, snow rotating screened tv on a football game (now sundays are football nights, too?). FOOTBALL. To us, it's background noise, to us, it is the heart and soul of any bar (or home during the fall season, for that matter). It was joyous, JOYOUS when he turned if off, even against our protests of "That's a first!" "We're from the South, we don't have a choice in these matters!". Needless to say, our vodka tonics and vodka sodas were very strong and on the cheap. And he got a monster tip.
Next stop, Schillers. Killer cocktails and very friendly patrons. Hot bartenders. Highly recommended.
Moving right along: Oliva, Restaurant Bar, with excellent mojitos and very invigorating live music with such a tiny dance space that the dancing was just soooo. As I danced with Jose, my compatriot laughed because he was dancing samba, and i was dancing blues and it took, not so long, until he totally got into the bump and grind. Down and dirty, you know. And while it was good (he continued to come back for more), I soooo gotta learn the other. I mean the liquid hips of those women and the style that those couples possessed. Oh My.
And finally . . . blessed Korean Food. There seems to be a plethora of restaurants on the strip that are opened for 24 hours. Kunjip would be my recommendation. The kimchi was excellent. The bibimbob (which we both got) was just fine. I have to admit, I've sampled several of the places here, and my over-all favorite is still Kim II in Ft Walton Beach, Florida, and the very short lived Asian Family in Lubbock, TX. The waitstaff at Kunjip were friendly, patient and appropriately attentive as we slowly sipped our sake and devoured our food.
Other bars/restaurants of note in Brooklyn:
Get out at 8th St. Make a detour to walk by Grace Church just cuz it looks pretty, and even though I hadn't been in a church in several years before I moved here, I seem to get drawn in by that church in one way or another every time (okay, both times) I've been in it's proximity. It was the first (and probably only) 30 minutes of absolute silence and reverent stillness I've experienced since I've gotten here. Too bad it was closed this night (or maybe not ;) Get back on task: booze, eventually korean food.
McSorley's. My compatriot, in true used-to-live-in-NYC form, decided that the pot-bellied stove and centuries old dust covering the chandelier was just not fittin' the bill. Actually, I was in agreement, as we were totally in cocktail mode: McSorely's only serves their own brewed beer. I can't wait to get back.
The first on task stop, KGB bar. The bartender actually asked us if we wanted him to turn off the tv. The ancient, vertical push-button, rabbit-eared, snow rotating screened tv on a football game (now sundays are football nights, too?). FOOTBALL. To us, it's background noise, to us, it is the heart and soul of any bar (or home during the fall season, for that matter). It was joyous, JOYOUS when he turned if off, even against our protests of "That's a first!" "We're from the South, we don't have a choice in these matters!". Needless to say, our vodka tonics and vodka sodas were very strong and on the cheap. And he got a monster tip.
Next stop, Schillers. Killer cocktails and very friendly patrons. Hot bartenders. Highly recommended.
Moving right along: Oliva, Restaurant Bar, with excellent mojitos and very invigorating live music with such a tiny dance space that the dancing was just soooo. As I danced with Jose, my compatriot laughed because he was dancing samba, and i was dancing blues and it took, not so long, until he totally got into the bump and grind. Down and dirty, you know. And while it was good (he continued to come back for more), I soooo gotta learn the other. I mean the liquid hips of those women and the style that those couples possessed. Oh My.
And finally . . . blessed Korean Food. There seems to be a plethora of restaurants on the strip that are opened for 24 hours. Kunjip would be my recommendation. The kimchi was excellent. The bibimbob (which we both got) was just fine. I have to admit, I've sampled several of the places here, and my over-all favorite is still Kim II in Ft Walton Beach, Florida, and the very short lived Asian Family in Lubbock, TX. The waitstaff at Kunjip were friendly, patient and appropriately attentive as we slowly sipped our sake and devoured our food.
Other bars/restaurants of note in Brooklyn:
- Velvet
- Quarter at 20th St and 5th Ave. Sooooo good cocktails. Fresh ingredients and impeccable mixing
- The Bagel Factory
- Has Beans
- Thai Sky
#8
I have, for whatever reason, spent so much of my time "making do" rather than imagining that something better was attainable.
heartbreak lite: i still miss bp
Like i told him once, he has been both an anchor and a catalyst (in incredibly significant ways). he has also been something of a good friend, and a lover, at this point, beyond compare.
i miss him. i still miss that fucker and know that as far as the crux of the situation is concerned, he couldn't have done anything different, just like I couldn't have. It just was too much reality.
i still miss him. and, fortunately (or unfortunately) because of those three weeks of three hour a day subway rides (where i cried and cried and cried and cried . . .), am no longer angry. I just flat out miss him.
i'm also highly aware that we were just BAD together. As an idea, maybe, and as a reality, it was painful for all involved. I suppose because it was all long distance we could pretend. And when we were alone for awhile (though, inevitably, alone for too long), we got as close as either one of us possibly could.
either way, he made a tremendous impact on me. Most, through time, for the good.
so it goes.
i miss him. i still miss that fucker and know that as far as the crux of the situation is concerned, he couldn't have done anything different, just like I couldn't have. It just was too much reality.
i still miss him. and, fortunately (or unfortunately) because of those three weeks of three hour a day subway rides (where i cried and cried and cried and cried . . .), am no longer angry. I just flat out miss him.
i'm also highly aware that we were just BAD together. As an idea, maybe, and as a reality, it was painful for all involved. I suppose because it was all long distance we could pretend. And when we were alone for awhile (though, inevitably, alone for too long), we got as close as either one of us possibly could.
either way, he made a tremendous impact on me. Most, through time, for the good.
so it goes.
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
me and bp in a nutshell
i knew i liked jimi for a reason:
why we liked each other. . . relief from everything else:
There must be some kind of way out of here
Said the joker to the thief
There's too much confusion
I can't get no relief . . .
How i got suckered in:
No reason to get excited
The thief he kindly spoke
There are many here among us
Who feel that life is but a joke but uh
But you and I we've been through that
And this is not our fate
So let us not talk falsely now
The hour's getting late . . .
and then, inevitably (only after the sublime), back to the mostly silent, though just as urgent pleading of one another:
There must be some kind of way out of here
why we liked each other. . . relief from everything else:
There must be some kind of way out of here
Said the joker to the thief
There's too much confusion
I can't get no relief . . .
How i got suckered in:
No reason to get excited
The thief he kindly spoke
There are many here among us
Who feel that life is but a joke but uh
But you and I we've been through that
And this is not our fate
So let us not talk falsely now
The hour's getting late . . .
and then, inevitably (only after the sublime), back to the mostly silent, though just as urgent pleading of one another:
There must be some kind of way out of here
Tuesday, October 2, 2007
kink
there is something primal about kink. and i think to be allowed to consensually and equally play with kink, whatever yours may be, sets forth a release that goes beyond physical. it is a bottomless soul release; a connection to another (though it's illicitness maybe just as much of a charge) that allows you to be who you are at that primal level with no judgments or condemnation and you are absolutely, mind, body (and if done right, spirit), lost in the sensations and the sharing of space and time and intimacy with that (or those) persons.
Here and here are a couple of blogs that explore many facets of sexuality.
Here and here are a couple of blogs that explore many facets of sexuality.
Monday, October 1, 2007
#7
The problem with isolation is that you don't know what is out of line and what is acceptable. I don't mean the difference between right and wrong, but behavior in everyday exchanges. This is true for your own behavior as well as what is to be expected in work environments, and from others (ex-boyfriends, as an example ;)
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