Feb 7
I shouldn't let it bother me, but it does. I can't tell if it bothers her, whether she's numb or immune to it after so many years, whether she figures it's pointless to complain about, whether something about it is a game. Mostly, she seems to handle it with a deft deflection, calibrated to meet the situation with just the right amount of fyvm. And she keeps walking.
Listen, I know how she looks, how she moves. The way she bounces along when she walks, if you can even call it walking, is mesmerizing. And don't even get me started about every other thing about her that is enchanting and alluring and appealing.
But fuck, why should those things -- any of them -- make somebody think that the appropriate approach is rudeness, or worse? That she wants to hear that? That it's going to
work?
Look, I've been there. I've been there with her. Flirting, poking, teasing, showing off, ;)ing and growling. How about
this and what about
that?
All I can say, as if she hasn't said in her own way, is "You're doing it wrong."
Feb 5
The planes have arrived pretty much in the morning, so far. A Tuesday at just before 9 a.m., as a newspaper was tucked under an arm in the most sketchy of ways. A Wednesday at 10:30, after an early morning departure and an ahead-of-schedule arrival aided by a freakish tailwind. And then the wintry dawn, when a reunion came in a nearly empty terminal.
There was one evening touchdown, but not like this one will be. West to east and east to west, the meeting will be in the middle of the country at the end of the day. Flights that take off in daylight will land after the sun has set. And when one spies the other, the same urgent grab will follow. After that, it will be like it has been every other time. Just more.
Jan 31
Not really. At least until we take down the "Hands Off" sign.
Which should be any day now.
Jan 5
This world's got smaller
I'm shaking lots of hands
Saying lots of things
That no one understands
You can shake my tree
But you won't get me
Where am I
I think I'm go go, go go, go go
-Squeeze, "I Think I'm Go Go"
Dec 28
Lights swirl in chill air. Warm hand to tug along the sidewalk. Twenty-nine.
Dec 27
It's not that rules are made to be broken. Well, not all of them, anyway. The one that says you shouldn't have a drink while someone else is driving is pretty senseless. So just give me a paper bag with that and we'll be good.
Rules, regulations, laws, covenants, ordinances, statutes, edicts, standards ... all have their places and their reasons for being. The validity of these restrictions comes from the value that results from their practical application. Look around. When are the rules bent? Simply thrown out or disregarded. And for whose benefit? Examples are everywhere, in situations big and small, critical and inconsequential.
What rule says two people should be together? That two others shouldn't be? What once seemed right can turn out to be anything but. What may look at first to be utterly unlikely can be revealed in time, or no time at all, to be as natural as the air that we breathe. And as necessary.
The argument isn't that rules don't matter. They do. But sometimes, the way ahead is guided better by the goal and less by the boundaries along the path. After all, who can say what should go on at the library anyway? Because, actually, it could all be bullshit.
Dec 21
It was just a place and it wasn't even where they had planned to stay at first. They just needed somewhere to hide out for four days to reconnect, maybe get out and see the city a bit. Anywhere would do, as long as it was cozy and there were blankets and a pulsing shower.
But this was her birthday, and a certain amount of scheming ensued. Thoughts of the celebration led to a meal led to a restaurant led to a new place to stay. A theme or an attitude suggested itself, maybe. And soon enough they were there. Too early to check in, they looked around the neighborhood. Too cold to stay outside, they ended up in the lobby on a couch. Good thing the room was ready not long after that.
A new door with a new number. Nighttime rides in mirrored elevators. "Are you going to take your drink?" Two-at-a-time in a revolving door. Ice bucket after ice bucket for the beer and the Jim Beam and the milk and champagne and Evian after Evian. Plates and forks from room service to start on the birthday cake. Fingers to finish it with. "Take Me Back."
Dec 1
... and look up in the sky tonight.
