A trimming we will go...

Yesterday and then again this morning I trimmed the yard. This afternoon I plucked and trimmed my eyebrows and to be honest - I'm not sure which was more of a challenge. I don't have dark brows, they're a nice light brown color. But, man! I don't think they've ever been as noticeable. Maybe not as noticeable as this guy's - dangit, dude, so something about that shiznit. But, mine had filled in to disastrous proportions in my opinion. I can't recall the last time I plucked, but judging from the state of the thicket above my eyes it had to have been sometime during the Jurassic period. It was unbelievable. What I want to know is - how could I have so many stray little brow hairs up there and not notice them on a hair by hair basis? I mean, I caught a glimpse of myself in the visor mirror when we went to dinner last night and was appalled by what I saw. For a second I thought perhaps a battalion of very small soldiers had camped out on the high ridge above Eye Canyon, I was afraid they'd fire at will. Lucky for me, no battle ensued. It's that natural lighting - ladies (and some groom-friendly gents) you know what I'm talking about. That natural, true lighting that sometimes makes you look the most radiant, and yet at other moments can reveal even your most concealed flaws. Oh yes, it was that kind of light which exposed the brow thicket. Harsh, yes. But I was glad of it. If not for the cruel sunshine I might have never cut off the battalion at the pass and the fates that could have befallen me are too filled with doom to ponder.

I'm exhausted. It was one hell of a job ripping those tiny hairs from my face. Almost as hard as the weeding & raking this morning in the yard. Thankfully the tweezers didn't give me blisters. Damn rake. I hate you, rake. Suck it, rake.

I didn't melt

... the whole way, anyway. I definitely melted a little bit. No need to send the search party. I had to take a break from trimming when the sweat dripping from my forehead completely clouded my sunglasses and I couldn't see. Gross. I trimmed the grass along the front fence and weeded as much as I could stand. When I felt like a human puddle I figured it was time to go inside and cool off. Plus, the thunder had started and it was beginning to rain a little.

Off to watch Million Dollar Agents on TLC. It's about this crazy real estate agent in Miami who is this larger than life guru for all things real estate. He has this assistant who's failed his exam to get his license twice now and he's got to pass it or else he risks losing his job with this Carlos guru guy. It's pretty funny. It shows how absurd and incredibly wealthy South Beach is. It's pretty nutty. If only...

It's been [almost] one week... (again, thanks BNL)

A week ago at this time we were getting ready to have people over for the going away BBQ. It was a super fantastic day and I sort of wish I could relive it. I wouldn't want to trade in this week for it, I'd just like to see everyone all together again. This week has been a big learning experience. There has been a good bit of stress (mostly self-induced by my own overly analytical bullshit), a lot of laughs, tons of smiles, lots of time with the man (which is so nice, because we've basically been together almost non-stop for a week and haven't gotten testy with each other yet, we're pretty good at saying "I'm a bit cranky right now, I need to chill out"), more than my fair share of dog slobber, and all-around good times. I'd say that the bad parts are the job search, not knowing anyone but the man (which I'm hoping to change by checking out services at a local synagogue next Friday night or sometime soon), being a little guarded when I probably shouldn't be in order not to step on his toes or make him feel like I'm invading his house, and having no money (which ties back into the job search thing).

Lucky for me, all the bad parts can be fixed and will be in the immediate future. I'm looking for a job. I sent off 2 more resumes today (ugh) and I'm calling a little cafe that we walked past in the Design District the other day because they had a "help wanted" sign in the window. Who knows what they need, probably servers, and I haven't served in ages... but it seems like a cool little place - it's a gallery and a cafe. Plus side is that they're only open until 5. Down side is that they're only open until 5 - I don't think the Design District has a whole lot of foot traffic, so I think the cafe probably sustains itself by catering to the lunch crowd of folks who work in the area and the occasional shopper. Which doesn't mean loads of business from what I've seen over there, but I could be wrong, wouldn't that be nice? Anyway, I called them about 20 minutes ago and no one answered. On Saturdays they don't open until 11. I'll try again soon. It might be fun to work at a cafe part time. It would be cool if they need a cook. I'd enjoy that.

The other bad parts will be remedied by me getting out into the city and doing things outside the house and developing a comfort level here. I'm not uncomfortable by any means, I just want this to feel like home and I think it's a little too early to feel really cozy yet. I know it will come. I'm very glad to be here. That's a good sign.

I've spent the day being entirely domestic. The man left before 8 for a freelance gig and I got up when he left, swept the house (which now looks like I didn't do a damn thing to it because this pooch is shedding like nobody's business), went around with the vacuum and sucked up all the dust on the window ledges and at the baseboards, put last night's dishes away, washed the rest, played with Duke outside for a while (he's sleeping on the floor next to me right now... his little legs are running along with his dream, it's cool), and I'm going to go cut the grass or at least do the edging in a minute. Gotta slap on my bathing suit so I can get a little color while I'm out there.

It's off to the jungle I go! If you see no posts in the next 12 hours send a search party, s'il vous plait.

Sexy beeeeetches

This is part of the fabulously sexy and talented crew at the going away BBQ we had last Saturday. I made the top I was wearing and it earned the loving nickname the "tit top". For good reason, I guess. It was so funny. Parisa said this pic should be used as a tampon ad or something. I thought that was hilarious. We had so much fun that day.

The turnout was great. It was the kind of crowd where people just sort of came in waves. It started at 3:00 and we had people over until around midnight, so it was a bit of a marathon BBQ. We all made great food and we had great drinks. The man and Liz made a to-die-for fruit salad that was out of this world. After we had all eaten our fill of it we made white sangria. After we drank all the sangria the man pureed the sangria fruit and mixed it with vodka to make the most delicious fruit smoothie/martini thing. Man, it was tasty. John made kebabs that were so yummy I had 3 of them. 3! He carried 2 trays of them to the grill and only realized how much he had when people started falling silent looking at the mounds of meat & veggies he had in his hands. He apologized, said he comes from a big family and can't do anything the small way. After we all said how much food that was, we sure didn't have any trouble polishing off the last one. He stayed until Shira had washed all the dishes and helped bring everything in from outside, even helped the man & me carry my stuff outside to pack the truck for the big drive the next day. Shira was so great that day. She's a fantastic hostess. She made potato salad and we went to the store and got all these artificial tropical flowers to put around the garden. It was a really, really wonderful day. I'll have memories of it for a very long time.

This particular post hasn't been very digestible if you're not me, for that I apologize, but it's more of a reminiscing moment for me and less of a blog post. Just wanted to think back and put a smile on my face. Mission accomplished.

Graffiti Ducks and Ink Spots

Alright, I'm not crazy. Well, I am indeed crazy, but for nothing having to do with this post. I've been seeing these ducks graffitied all over Miami and I want to know where the hell they come from. They're on signs, billboards, buildings, well mostly buildings I guess. Anyway, they're very simple, just a basic cartoonish outline of a duck w/random words written inside. My favorite which has now been painted over was a duck with "crack" inside it. Nothing else, just "crack". That one became affectionately known as crack duck whenever the man and I would discuss the little buggers. There was a "grow" duck, too, but that was painted over and then the building that it had once adorned was torn down. There's a "non" duck and there used to be a "blank walls" or "hank wall" or something on this building on the way to the Design District, but it's been painted over and now we can't read it. It's very sad.

I love the ducks. There are newer ducks that are sitting on top of hearts. They're pretty cool. I want to know who is painting the ducks so I can talk to them and possibly collaborate with them on a future tattoo. I've posted on craigslist asking for duck info and no one has any info about them or their creator. I wish the duck creator would reveal him/herself to me. Oh, I wish.

Which brings me to the ink spots portion of this post... tattoos. They're cool. I like mine a whole lot and I think that some others that aren't mine are pretty rockin', too. Have you seen the show on TLC Miami Ink? If not, you should. First of all they do awesome work and they're a riot to watch. Ami (sort of the ringleader) is a bit of an ass (well, a lot of an ass, but I'm sure there's creative editing to enhance that), Yoji (the apprentice) is cool and totally nuts about his wife which is cute, Garver is the older wiser version of all the rest of the guys (and man, can that guy lay down some ink), the other guy (I'm blanking on his name at the moment) is the sweet nice one, and Chris Nunez (the man calls him "Greasy") is the hot one. Yeah, I said it - he's the hot one. Anyway, their shop is in South Beach and I want to go have a consultation with Nunez about my next tattoo. He specializes in art reproductions and a major portion of the one I want is a reproduction of an old catalog illustration. Plus, I like his personality. Well, I like the edited-for-TV personality that I watch every week. Then again, Yoji needs a break thrown his way, being the apprentice and all... they give him a tons of shit all the time, but they do it out of love I hope. It would be cool to walk in and be all like, "Hey, I need some special ink done and I need a skilled hand. Is Yoji around?" Stay tuned for tattoo pictures as soon as I can land a j-o-b and pay for it. Ah, the trials and tribulations of being in a new city...

One more of the Duke-ster

I just can't help it, he's so freaking cute. I can't believe I get to see this adorable mug every day. Between this face and the man's I think I'm in my own Floridian heaven.

Pooches and peaches

So, this is Duke. Isn't he cute? He's a huge wad of wrinkly cuteness. I love that damn dog.

Today has been relatively uneventful. Which is nice, but frustrating, too. Nice because we didn't have to do too much running around or stick to a schedule, per se. But frustrating because I have no job. Had I a job already today would have been filled with schedules and structure and all that stuff. I'm only frustrated because of money, and I hate that because money is the root of so much stress in this life, and I know as soon as I get a job I'll be longing for days like today. But my bank account is squeaking, it's so tight. So, the job hunt is on. I sent off my resume (the updated one with the new address) to 4 places today. I doubt any of them will email me back, they never do, but it's worth a shot and I have to do something. It's only been 2 days, so I know I shouldn't get bummed out about not working yet, but I am anyway. It's how I operate. I know that it's unreasonable to be upset about something and I go and get upset anyway. It's what I do.

The morning was especially nice today. We woke up pretty early and went to get some coffee. We picked up a couple of caffes con leche and headed to the beach. We walked around a little and I swam a bit. A very small bit, but I got in the ocean, that's my point. The water felt great and the sand is always nice between my toesies. Talked about follow through and distraction and dedication to a goal. It was a good talk. Got some things figured out as far as priorities go. In terms of work, what needs to get done first and how do we go about doing that and what does that mean for the master plan... all that stuff. It was nice to talk about those things and get some sort of general game plan down for how the man is going to tackle things and how I am, too. Felt good about getting my resume updated and looking online for recent job listings. I think the man felt good about it, too. It's been hard for him being here alone and trying to focus one thing at a time when there are so many things he could be doing. He really does just have too much talent. If he weren't so smart he wouldn't be so creative and thereby wouldn't have so many ideas about other things he could be doing. He's going to be great, though. No matter what.

I hope something comes through soon in terms of jobs. I don't like being preoccupied with money. It makes me nervous. I don't mind thinking about it and sticking to a budget and all that, but to be nervous and worried about it all the time is no way to live. If I don't get a hit on one of the resumes I've sent out soon I think I'm going to look into waiting tables or something. I just have to find a place that will hire someone who isn't bilingual and who hasn't served in years. Good gawd, am I doomed? I also want to look into other staffing agencies. I'm not opposed to temping to see what's out there. Wish me luck...

I think I'm going to have a peach for a snack. I like peaches.

Hmm...

I'm sitting here at the computer regretting falling asleep last night. I really am perturbed by it. I fell asleep when I could have stayed awake just a little longer and had some mindlblowing sex. Alas, I drifted off to dream land, probably drooling with my mouth open, making strange and unnattractive noises all the while facing the man. I couldn't have even turned the other way? C'mon, chickie, time to take a lesson in the ways of maintaining some sort of sensual appeal while cohabitating.

First, don't be naked the whole time. I mean, be naked as much as you want, but don't walk around too naked for too long. Leave a little something covered up. You could look like Sienna Miller naked and still after a while you'd be the familiar old sight of Sienna Miller naked. BTW, I hear she's available since the whole Jude/nanny thing came out. Yum - lucky nanny.

Anyway, back to sex. The important topic at hand. Better yet - sexuality in the household. How to keep the spice? How to keep the interest? I'm beginning to think I'm over-thinking this. I have never had even the slightest wavering in my attraction to the man, no matter how much time we spend together or how often he's naked (which is not a lot. He always seems to cover up in some way shortly after the finale of the horizontal mambo), and yet I worry about keeping his attraction to me running along at a good clip. Why do I do that? It really doesn't make any sense. I have no indication that there's cause for alarm in that department at all, and yet I think about it. I really hate being a girly girl sometimes.

I think I'm going to make a point to take the reigns, as it were, in the budoir later this evening. I'll feel good about being assertive (something I often am in my dreams, but rarely am in reality) and he'll feel good because we're getting it on and he wasn't the one to make the first move for a change. Nice. I love it when a plan comes together.

We Made It!!!

Miami... We're here. Finally. We drove for 22 hours and didn't even kill each other! It's a feat that deserves some praise. No, not really. But we did do quite well on a very long trip together and we only each got cranky once,so that's a good thing. We stayed in a couple of funny little hotels. Well, one sketchy uncomfortable hotel and one funny little comfortable hotel. There's so much to say about the trip, I'm just going to list some of the best parts.

We stopped in VA and had dinner with my folks. My mom made my favorite meal and it was great - chicken tetrazzini. Yummy times. I got to see my brother. He got home from work about half an hour before we had to leave. Actually he got there about an hour and a half after we should have left, but I just couldn't bring myself to leave too quickly. I don't think I'll be in that house for quite some time, so I was kind of relishing the moments, I guess. It was good to see my family. I don't get to see them that often these days and even when they drive me crazy I miss them.

Got stuck behind this pick-up truck at one point that I was convinced said "Steverado" on the tailgate. It had this goofy decal lettering across it that was kind of cursive graffiti looking stuff, so I really thought that's what it said. Turns out it said "Silverado" - the make of the truck. Duh, Melissa. So, I felt a bit silly, and from then on whenever we'd see a Silverado the man would point it out and say, "Look, it's Steverado!". Hey, I design clothes, I'm no brain surgeon.

We got to see the launching of the space shuttle Discovery this morning from Cape Canaveral. It was awesome! I've watched every launch since I can remember and to see one in person was just fantastic. Everyone on the beach was facing the same direction, waiting for the red glow of the boosters' trail through the blue, cloudless sky. I don't think the conditions could have been better. It was an absolutely gorgeous summer day. We planned out the last leg of the trip to coincide with the launch so we could see it. We were both very glad that the launch went as scheduled. If Discovery didn't get into orbit today the whole mission would have been scrubbed and we really wanted to see it. Plus, we ended up driving an extra half a day so we could witness it. And after spending 2 days in a car if we wouldn't have been able to have that extra half a day made worthwhile we would have been 2 very cranky Floridians. (wow, dude, I'm a Floridian. Well, I'm a Floridian/New Yorker, but still... that's weird)

Last night we stayed just north of Daytona beach at this little place called the Scottish Inn that's run by a Pakistani couple. That struck me as funny. The sign was all Celtic looking, but the office was decorated with embroidered wall hangings and little Urdu plaques. The bed was comfortable and the shower was normal sized (the night before we stayed at this place right off of 95 that had a horrible bed and a shower meant for midgets. Even I had to bend my knees to get my head wet, and I'm certainly no giantess), so the man was happy about that, being the tall hunk o' lovin' that he is. The Scottish/Pakistani Inn was right across the street from the beach, so we walked along the beach last night and got our feet wet. The sand felt great and the water was so warm. I picked up a bunch of shells that I'm going to make into a necklace. I felt like a little kid - walking around and squatting in the sand, digging to find the best shells. Made me think of all the times I did that at the Outer Banks as a little girl. It was a nice memory for me.

Typical road trip type stuff... ate at Waffle House and loved it, got slurpees from 7-11, listened to 80s music and sang along to almost every song, cursed out bad drivers as if they could hear us, complained about how uncomfortable we were (P.S. don't buy a Jeep Grand Cherokee. The new ones are pretty crappy. Little things were broken all over the interior and the handling was bad - felt like I was driving a semi and that's not from the size), ate beef jerky (thanks to my fabulous now former coworker, Sara, who supplied us with enough dried beef to feed a small village) and hallah (I know it's a strange combination, but my roommate, Shira, made us a goodie bag full of really great, healthy food for the trip - including tomatoes from the garden and man oh man were they tasty. Those of you who think grape tomatoes are a strange road trip food don't know what you're missing), took a few wrong turns but always found our way back. That's life, though, isn't it? Waffle House, beef jerky and wrong turns. That's life, my friends.

I have so much more to say about the trip and about the fabulous BBQ that we had on Saturday before we left for the drive down here, but for now I need to go take a walk around the block. I feel as if my legs have atrophied slightly and I need to shock them back into an active state before they go on strike for good. I'll write more later once we have the truck unpacked and I have my thoughts together.

I'm home. It feels pretty damn good.

Much better now

Rinsed. Head no longer itchy. Hair not as dark as I wanted it to be, but it's fine. The cut is good. Kudos to me.

My head's itchy

Really. That's about all I have to say at the moment. I'm coloring my hair, which means I have a gloppy coating of dark purple goo slathered all over my head (it's amazing that blonde hair color turns purple when it's developing on your hair). And my head is itchy in at least 3 places at all times it seems. Argh. I can't really get to the itchy parts because of the purple goo and I can't ignore the itch because it's pretty darn itchy. I already stained 2 fingernails scratching despite the obvious perils of the goo.

I have 4 more minutes until I can rinse the goo and free my hair from it's sticky, stinky clutches. Alas, then I must apply a second layer of goo in order to highlight. I wish I could just suck it up and pay someone else to do this for me, but I got such a bad color job at a salon once that I have a hard time allowing anyone else to get near my hair. I figure I can't screw it up any more than that poor excuse for a stylist did (I wouldn't hold it against her so fiercly had she been even a smidge remorseful or concerned about the fact that I had crappy pinkish hair [it was supposed ot be auburn] with a lopsided cut). I need a cut, too. I was planning on going to my little Russian barber guy on 14th Street who did such a great job last time, but I spent the money I was planning to use on the haircut on the coloring supplies I bought this morning. With the impending move I'm more budget conscious and need to weigh the benefits of having Yuri (or was it Alexi...) cut my hair versus being able to have a decent dinner on the road and not feel guilty about it. We'll be driving for a good 2 & 1/2 days, so I think I'll cut my own hair and be able to have a good time on the trip.

I'm really looking forward to the man getting here tomorrow. I miss him terribly. He makes me so happy. It continually surprises me how much I just enjoy him. I enjoy spending time with him, I enjoy talking to him, I enjoy looking at him, I just enjoy him, period. It's great. I love him. I'm a very lucky girl.

P.S. I almost forgot... I'm going to have a fashion show in the Fall. How freaking awesome is that??? More to come.

If I had a million $$... thanks, BNL

If I had a million dollars what would I do with it? Hmm. I'd pay off everything I owe to anyone, which is not really that much, so basically there would still be a million smackers left. Now, when I say a million bucks, I mean a million bucks. No taxes or deductions of any sort. The whole shebang. So, I have a good chunk of change and I need things to do with it. Well, I'd pay off my brother's college. And then I'd pay off my parents' house. I'm guessing that after all that I'd have $700k on the low side. Next I'd pay off the man's house, no more mortgage. Let's say that leaves $560k. I'd sign me & the man up for that intensive Spanish class we looked into taking. Pretty hard to be in Miami and not be bilingual. Industrial sewing machine... check! Grooming service for Duke... check! I'd get that little Volvo the man is always telling me I'd look cute in. The whole house would be done. All the little things we want to do would be taken care of. Paint, deck, windows, flooring, furniture - all of it. That still leaves enough to give a good bit to charity and take an amazing vacation to Croatia. It's the "new riviera", according to the New York Times and Sports Illustrated. I guess 10 years after a bloody and brutal civil war the people are finally benefitting from tourism again.

So, I think that just about covers the million. Wow, it's amazing how fast it goes. Lucky for me I don't have the pressure of deciding where all of it goes. Whew! What a relief.

Love, actually

From the very first time a dashing leading man carried a beautiful, virginal bride across a threshold to a perfectly ordered and appointed new home in some TV series or movie of the 50s or 60s, you knew there was an imaginary standard for "modern" love that you could never meet. The man was the bread winner and the woman was the matriarch, perhaps she worked outside the home, perhaps she was focused as a homemaker, children or not. They always had dinner together at the same time each evening, and the food was just to his liking. They rarely argued, and if they did it was over something silly like the woman being too sensitive or burning the roast, maybe the man spent too much time with his buddies playing poker or golf. Regardless of the insignificant mishaps of idyllic daily life, the view from the American living room was that the people on the screen were always happy, always loving, and always committed.

Enter reality and the year 2005. I don't have an unrealistic idea of what my love life should be. I know that with all the wonder and good feelings and happiness there is also a good share of compromise, disagreement, and work. That's what love is. It's not a picture perfect plasticine world where all the colors are vivid and the sun is on perpetual high beam. It's something entirely different, something harder and grittier with shades of gray. There are unhappy times. There are moments when you question what you're doing. Not everything gets worked out. But the thing is... it's better this way. It's better knowing that although every issue doesn't get resolved you can get past it. It's better knowing that when you have a fight you can be mad and get angry probably say stupid things, and at the end of it when the talking is over you can lay down next to the person you love more than anything else and know that you're sleeping next to the best thing that's ever happened to you. It's better knowing that when you're busy getting annoyed by random small things about him you're still loving him. You love him in spite of what he does that bothers you. He loves you back. You get on his nerves, too you know. You're not perfect. Love isn't perfect. It's better... it's real. It's true and it's tough. It makes you feel like you can do anything and it lets you know what's possible. It's the best. He's the best. I know it.


On a completely unrelated note I seem to have done something to my foot. I either bruised my arch or strained some little muscle in there. It hurts. Ouch.

Moving' & shakin'

There's a thing about moving that I'm really not thrilled about. It's a thing that's neccessary in order to actually facilitate the act of moving. But I still loathe it. It makes me tense. It makes me feel scattered. It's not easy. This thing is called packing.

Oh, the dreaded packing. I'm fully aware that the hatred is rooted in the proof of just how disorganized I am. I know where everything is, but it's a mess. I don't like living in a mess. The problem is that I started to travel for work pretty frequently and that first time I came back from a long trip the suitcase got dumped out late at night when I got home from the airport and that was the start of the long downward spiral of mess. I had to leave 2 days later for another trip and ended up doing the same thing when I returned from that one. So the pile went from small to not small quickly. Unfortunately I did laundry and then had to run out the door and didn't put that laundry away. The pile grew again. It was really a bad pattern from there on out. Now I have to sort through everything and in the interest of space (we're driving a mini van down to Miami to move me, so I don't have loads of room to take every last thing I own) I need to get rid of things that I don't want and not feel bad about paring down.

Plus, I don't want to overwhelm the man when I get there. He asked me to move in with him, if I take all my crap there's a chance I'll make him feel trapped in his own house. He chose to live with me and I see that as an honor, and the last thing I'd want to do is make him feel like his space isn't his space. I want to harmonize with him in that house and all my junk won't help. So I purge. Purging is good, as long as you don't have an eating disorder. Oh boy, that wasn't funny.

Short-timer's comin' on strong

I've got it. A bad case of short-timer's syndrome. I am full on, dead serious, committed to no longer giving a shit about work. Don't get me wrong, I want to make sure that my teammates aren't left hanging with loads and loads of work when I go, but for the most part I'm just counting the days until I get to peace out of that joint and turn in my gawd awful ID badge and electronic card key for that gawd awful building.

Let me make a toast (with imaginary glass held high, brimming with the sparkling goodness of expensive champagne - also obviously courtesy of my overactive imagination) to my job: Here's to no longer commuting to New Jersy from Brooklyn every damn day of the week except for when I'm traveling like some nomadic maniacal workaholic, in which case here's to a marked decrease in the need to deal with airport delays and scratchy hotel sheets. Here's to no more shuttle rides with rude drivers who act like you're completely ruining their day by giving them a reason to have a job. Here's to the snobby girls in the office who act like their very presence is a reason to be glad to work for a large fashion conglomerate (it amuses me to no end that they dimly avoid the idea that should they actually be involved in a fashion-y part of the business [design, PR, anything at all having to do with glamour in any way shape or form] they'd be working from the Madison Avenue offices and not Bumfuck East, New Jersey. Here's to not seeing the Medieval Times "dinner and tournament" when we pull into the office parking lot (oh yeah, there's one next to us. That's hot, right?). Here's to leaving behind a terrible HR department and no one who knows what the details of the 401k plan are. Here's to no more frustrations over unqualified people being promoted to positions of authority for no good reason. Here's to not having to deal with corporate idiocy on a daily basis.

So as not to seem like a negative, horrible, doomsday thinking bitch - I haven't hated every day of my job. Really. Just most of them.

Missed Connections... all the time

I was coming home on the F train last night and a man sat next to me. He smiled and offered some pleasantry when he sat, like "thanks" or "excuse me" and I said "sure thing" or something of the like. He was an attractive guy, late twenties/early thirties, dressed pretty hipster-like but not trying too hard, easy going manner. Seemed like someone I might be friends with. I was staring off into space straight ahead but I could feel him glancing in my direction, not in a creepy way, more like he just wanted to say hello. For some reason I resisted that interaction. I didn't look his way. I kept looking ahead and avoiding him. Why did I do that? We, as New Yorkers especially, tend to go out of our way to avoid interaction, connection with people. It's a wonder anyone meets anyone else in this city. We go about our day, not making eye contact, trying not to get in other peoples' way (well, that's me, seems like most everyone else just wants me to get out of theirs judging from the number of times I have to step to the side to allow someone else to pass on the sidewalk compared to the number of times that people move for me).

This guy and I had some obvious connection, not in any way deeper than 2 people on a train who should have greeted one another, but it was something nonetheless. And I sat there denying any kind of conversation. It was strange. I'm not one to shy away from people for the most part, but for some reason I didn't interact with this man. He got up to leave several stops later and I almost got up and leaned out to say to him, "I'm sorry, I should have said hello." I didn't, though. Maybe I avoided it because I didn't want him to think I was hitting on him or something. I don't really have a good explanation. All I know is that this man seemed to have a kind soul and I missed my chance to just say hi. Weird.

Craigslist has a "missed connections" section that serves as an "I saw you" sort of thing. Funny how the missed connections I think of are the ones of an innocent, friendly nature. The ones on a human level, person to person. The ones we all miss whether we know it or not.

Happy B-Day, MT

MT is 29 today. Well, he's 29 sometime soon or recently past... not sure when the day of his birth is specifically commemorated. The important part is that his party is tonight. Little BBQ shindig right around the corner from our humble abode here on the Clara. Can't wait. We're all going. Heather is in town. We're getting dressed and heading over there to have a fabulous celebratory time with MT & his buds.

Must get myself to the grocery to pick up some chicken & veggies - going to make kebabs to take and throw on the grill. Must also pick up some adult beverages of some sort. Not sure what I want to take yet.

Hmm, rain. Just started. Hope it passes through. From the sounds of that latest thunder crack it might stick around for awhile. Poop. Whatever, rain. I declare that I will not allow a little crappy weather ruin the birthday festivities.

Poem by the Plant Man

The plant man sent me a poem he wrote in March. I really like it. This is it:

PSALM 152

And the word of the Lord

came unto me saying son of man

write me a poem about the storms of life

and how you fight to stay afloat in it

when the world around you

is sinking in a sea of depression

tell me about the fountain of love

that flows from the depth of your being

when darkness overshadows your horizon

tell me how you kill pain and sadness

to stop them from polluting your joy

and how you cast out the burden of sorrow..

with fruits of laughter from the garden of your bliss

tell me how you mend your broken heart

with hope from a butterfly wings

and dry your tear drops in the sunshine

to prevent them from drowning your soul

tell me how you search creation for truth

and find out you are its treasured secret

and how you wrestle

with the cosmic serpent of your mind

all the way back to the wellspring of the divine

tell me about the glory of God

like you talk about yourself

show me the essence of beauty

that can only be seen

in the reflection of your eyes

tell me how you live each day with clandestine faith

and how you walk on the tightrope of life

between good and evil

and keep your balance

in a capitalistic whirl wind

tell me how you respect your brothers and sisters

though you do not share their views

and how you dance with the devil

until you get back your groove

tell me how you embrace new age demons

to overcome your fear

taste the erotic flame of ecstasy and stay sober

sip holy communion with doubt

break bread with disbelief

to gain access back into the Garden of Eden

tell me how you smile at hate

until it blushes back at you in shame

and how you fall seventy times seven

pick yourself up each time with wisdom

dust yourself off with understanding

and start all over again

tell me how you swim upstream

like a salmon to achieve your dream

ignoring the voices telling you

you are going in the wrong direction

tell me how you cut a new path

through the wilderness of life

when you can’t find one

to fulfill your destiny

tell me how you convert your ego into your religion

walk a mile in Lucifer shoes

to save a fallen star from perdition

tell me how you forgive Satan

and free your spirit from eternal damnation

tell me how you befriend and make plans with death

to sail you across the threshold of eternity

to continue life’s ageless journey

tell me how you stand unafraid in the dark

praying for the unborn

that they will all make it back

into the light of the celestial dawn

tell me how you keep your sanity

when your children forget your name

and how you cry for forty days

and forty nights for humanity

and no one notices

the rainbow was painted

as a cacodylic colored curtain

to hide your swollen emotion

tell me how you inspire the leaves

of mahogany and cedar trees to still shine

in a paradise going blind

son of man tell me something about life

that you have never said

like how you measure

the moments of infinity with patience

entertain strangers like they are your next of kin

love your neighbor like yourself unconditionally

put an end to galactic and man made wars

sign everlasting peace treaty

that has no beginning and no ending

like yesterday and tomorrow

son of man tell me

how to make the earth dance again

with your metaphors

show me how to rejuvenate this tired creation

with your rhyme scheme

help me to breath new life into an ailing world

with your prose

write me a poem to resurrect the dead

give sight back to the blind

heal the crippled

set the captives free

make your words

sing a sweet poetic melody

so the angels can once again sing in harmony

Hallellujah Hallellujah Hallellujah

Hallellujah Hallellujah Hallellujah