under my rug

You left your boxer briefs at my place. We looked in vain for a half hour and after you'd left I found them under my rug. Now, I'm going to put them in a clear plastic bag, hoping your roomates will find them, in your mailbox, with one of the following notes displayed:

Dearest,
I found these next to the sink in the kitchen. Looks like you got into some hanky panky while your father and I were out of town.
xoxo
Mom

Hi Hot Stuff,
Thanks for last nite.
xxx
Pablo

Peter Pan,
You left these when you made your way hastily out of never never land after our rowdy night.
Yours,
Roofeo

Hi,
You still owe me $40. I don't give extras for free. My pimp knows where you live.
Yolanda

I just think it's funny. Tee hee.

gently

The weeks have gone by so quickly lately and some days the hours are stretched by the sensation that everything is sticky and hard and you’re exhausted from the exertion. But then, some days, like today, feel gentle, they flow smoothly and there is a sense of calm. The perspective has had a chance to shift, with enough calm to encourage reflection. Because, when its go go go, how can you even reflect when you’re constantly rushed and exhausted.

The tables have turned, and instead of feeling helpless, I’ve realized a sense of control. Achieved through an objective lens, the patience of a saint, and a feeling of pre-possession over my actions without regret. Instead of pushing, I watch, wait, and see. People aren’t filled with a sudden sense of enlightenment because I want them to, they don’t change to be someone who cares about me in a way that I need on a dime. It grows; and it grows as they let it grow. And if they find the place where they can be there for me the way I need and I for them, then harmony happens. Friendship happens. Things happen. But things change.

Things have changed a lot in the last month. And it’s happened quickly. So quickly I haven’t had time to process and step back and see the whole picture. Perhaps it’s a blessing. Because then I can’t over think, over analyze, cut it into pieces, where actions put out of context and words without context make the whole, overwhelm the frame. But I have felt a distinct change in my perspective, without the luxury of reflection. And now, I’m just going to enjoy this, I’m going to go gently. I want to eschew the anxiety that anticipation and expectations for the future bring. One day of calm and gentle enjoyment of where I am without worrying where I was or where I’m going.

beer runnings

Sunday morning. 8am. My alarm blares on and I’m convinced I’ve only been sleeping for a minute and just got home from a night of dancing. I know why it’s going off, and I reluctantly, slowly, roll out of bed and try to figure out my next move. The only thing I can manage is to put on my running stuff. I can’t even think if I need to eat or drink or bring anything for the race. I realize my car was left downtown last night, so I grab my bike keys and think it’ll be a snap to ride to the race start. It seems to go so slow. I knew my tires were low, but I’m now wondering if it makes this morning ride in the rain seem to take forever. I arrive, bleary eyed and sweating, find my running buddy and manage half a bottle of vitamin water before we start. I’m too numb and brainless to wonder or think that this might be difficult or that I should have stayed at home. After the first 5 km, I start to feel good, my head is clearer, the fresh air feels good. The last 2 km, I’m convincing myself and my running buddy that we’re almost done. We finish, I hug my mom at the finish line, her face wrinkling in disgust.

“You smell…like booze.”

I ask my running partner if she noticed. “O, well at first I kept getting wafts, but I thought it might go away after a while, but no, you pretty much smelled boozy the whole run.”

If I’d have jumped in the river after the run, I’d have done a triathlon.

Life list: 10k while still drunk. Check.

peace out

It was awesome. I told him that his mother would be proud and it's true. When he dropped me off, I gave him the peace sign as a goodbye. I'm possibly a dude psychologically. Peace out.

Sent from my iPhone

september now

September now. Like the beginning of a new year, but not, the taste of summer still lingers, and work feels hard, things move faster but we’re reticent, still tingling with the hedonistic feel of summer and the urge to celebrate with the rhythm of the season, lingering with the long nights and waking with the sun. With the days shortening and things speeding up, I have a few things I’d like to enjoy this fall:

• Less black. I’ve made a resolution to not buy black or wear as much of it this winter. It’s not a funeral. The green returns. Eventually.


• Sitting back and relaxing and observing more. I don’t need to be out there seeking, finding, doing, planning all of the time, even if it’s genetically ingrained in me. This will take effort, but I think it’s worth it.


• An Indian summer. Come on Mother Nature, we deserve it!


• No drama. Because you, you and, you just seem to stress me out. I can’t find logic in your actions or redeeming qualities in the way you interact with me. In this vein, I want to build on the drama-less relationships I have and enjoy time with those friends.


• Cider and scarves and fur and velvet and feathers and hats and THE perfect pair of camel booties (still to be found).


• Caring less. This happens when you get old like me. And it’s awesome.