In the room next to me, they are fucking like rabbits, the bed banging against the wall rhythmically then not, rhythmically then not, then pounding, almost coming through the wall. This has gone on since the early hours. Outside, horns are blowing, people are speaking in raised voices, and it is cold.
Why does it seem as if time has sped up to where hours pass like minutes, days like hours, weeks like days, months like weeks, and on and on?
Forty degrees and the city that never sleeps. I’m back at the Muse – my home away from home for eight years now – and they’ve put me in an upgraded room that seems a little too slick. I prefer the way it was – the cool comforter on the bed, the robe that I ended up buying cuz I loved so much (now there are leopard print terry robes – too cool for school)…
This morning a complete stranger hugged both T and me and wished us luck in our life. Even she recognized the beauty in us and our potential.
T’s friend quotes his mother saying we look to our next love to remedy what was lacking in our last relationship – for me, it’s the tenderness she offers that is so palpable, so desired, so appreciated. For her, she says it’s my taking control of the scheduling? Sigh. Whatyagonnado?
My favorite flower is a peony – abundant in petals and as the bloom waxes they unfold so beautifully and as the blossom wanes still you see the lush beauty in the fallen, heavy head. How do I love thee? Let me count the ways…to the height, depth, and breadth my soul can reach when feeling out of sight. We keep talking about the layering – the way we fit each other so perfectly –…
In New York that is – here in New Orleans it is a super duper beautiful day – the sun is shining, it’s in the sixties and headed to the seventies – and I’m headed to NY (why that is?). Meanwhile, I’m only gone a few days and then my girls from Nantucket are arriving on Friday and we have a fully loaded agenda of fun in NOLA planned. Saturday is the St. Patrick’s Day…
When I was pulling back the shutters this morning, a pelican was taking off across the bayou and the sun was glistening and dancing on top of the water. This sort of activity might have been that I woke up late – having spent most of the night warding off night sweats caused by this stage of my life. All of these signs of aging used to cause me to be melancholy about doors that…
I had another identify theft dream last night – this time I was with a client and my wallet fell out of my back pocket and when I found it later on his credenza, there was nothing in it – no money, no id, no credit cards – all gone. There was no anxiety accompanied by this, more just simple observation. T said I dreamed about it because my identity is morphing into a Lesbian…