Closing a Door, Building Another
My office smells delicious. This is partly because I am drinking really delicious coffee, partly because my little sister sent an enormous bouquet of roses for my birthday, and partly because I bought myself a perfume redolent of a lover, a fireplace, a whiskey, and very dark chocolate.
Delicious.
This is not the only thing I bought for my birthday. I also bought a bright red lipstick, a bright yellow ladder, and a bright orange cup—all things I needed or wanted very much and assumed no one else would provide for me. I mention this because of my long-held belief that if there’s something that I want, it is on me to obtain it. This is why I went missing for the last four days, both on this blog and in real life. Experience has taught me that the best way to turn a new age is to disappear into the wild and attune with forces bigger and more ancient than those normally that drive you. If I’m being more honest—and this year I intend to practice that kind of conscious vulnerability—I also disappear to gird against disappointment.
A disappearance seemed especially wise after the recent ugliness with Mr. Oyster. So this year I headed for the hills—upstate, actually, which is a region I’ve avoided since the months after September 11, 2001. I’d intended to spend a few days at the beach but thought releasing my old antipathy would set a better tone for this new year. 2016 is all about breaking internal glass ceilings. Continue Reading →
This Year’s Laundry
As I write this, I’m watching Metropolitan Avenue through the big windows at the laundromat, which is arguably one of the bleakest places you can be, especially on a sleety Sunday evening in January. It’s a bleakness that doesn’t usually bother me, even though at a certain age going to the laundromat is an exercise in self-reckoning. I’m cheered by the communal nature of everyone’s resignation –the kids pushing each other in baskets, the mothers and fathers chattering as they fold, the millennials who appear shocked they’re washing their own clothes, the aging artists gritting their teeth as they measure out detergent. Sometimes I talk with others; as recently as last month I went on a few dates with a man I met there. Tonight I’m just annoyed–annoyed that at this ripe old age I don’t have my own washer and dryer, annoyed by the kids’ shrieking, annoying by the televisions blaring in the background, annoyed by the chemical smells hanging in the too-damp air. I think my annoyance stems from the fact that I’m at the tail end of my personal year–my birthday is in less than 48 hours–and I’m indulging in a rare dissatisfaction. I truly believe gratitude is the source of all grace and that we always have more than we realize, but tonight I need this dissatisfaction. It fills my sails with the wind to propel forward; it fills me with a hunger I need to sate; it fills my heart with the knowledge it is not yet full. For I recognize the challenge of this new year: I’m at my life’s midpoint, if I’m lucky, and there’s so much more I wish to share.
The Oyster’s Autobiography
He had oysters waiting for me. I keep thinking about it. I showed up late for dinner and he had oysters waiting for me and I threw them in his face. But if he wasn’t going to come around when it counted that’s what he was going to get. I know this as my ugliness slays me. We cannot be in touch. We want different things. I want him to be the friend of my heart, and he wants me as his sometimes companion. It boils down to that. I do not blame either of us but know I need something else. Someone else. I act badly because he never stays; he never stays because I act badly. We have been in this cycle for more than five years and during that time I’ve learned all too well to live without him–to live creatively and tenaciously with a broken heart. So I know I’ll be okay, will pick myself back up, will put on the red lipstick I bought so hopefully only a few days before. Maybe someday even stop waiting for that pearl. Today, though, I’m having a hard time moving. Forget about eating. He had oysters waiting for me and I threw them in his face.