Monday, August 29, 2005

How it all went down

Maybe this is for posterity, but many bore witness to this week so I wanted to let you know how it really happened.

The circumstances were simple - we met online. Wrote frantically, lingered for hours on the phone together. There was an instant heartfelt connection, shared experiences and upbringing had brought us to the same place. I came out on Wednesday. It's early Monday morning now.

We met after dinner on Wednesday night. I went to his place, we shared a bottle of wine and talked for hours. I drove home hazy and delighted at 3am.

We started Thursday with babka and coffee at his place. After we finished breakfast, we walked through the neighborhood looking at trees, plants, houses, gardens. Our walk took us to a beautiful cemetery that was pearched atop a hill. We sat next on a bench talking about the engraving before us - about the limited number of times we can draw from the well - about how many times we are granted the opportunity to do something like visit our families, spend time with good friends, eat dinner together. From there we walked through my favorite park, lingered in my old neighborhood (admiring the new art installation), and had lunch. A trip to Seattle's new library followed - 10 floors of ramps and modern architecture, vantage points, secret spots, splashes of color all for us to discover. We took in every last view before walking back uphill for a late afternoon coffee and then a quiet dinner together. We went back to his place and talked some more, then I left.

I thought Friday would never arrive. I'd spent almost every waking moment with him the previous day, talking and looking and laughing. He drove us to breakfast and then to our first viewpoint of the day looking out from Queen Anne across Lake Union. We stayed for a long time taking it all in. Then a quick drive past the house he lived in, and a long stop at Gasworks where we put our bare feet in the sundial at the top of the hill and looked over the city in front of us. We sat quietly together for a long time. Our last viewpoint of the day was from the marshy hiking trails along Foster Island and the Arboretum, parking at MOHAI and walking through the woods. Warblers, finches, jays - all came out for song and we stood looking over the canal towards school. He drove us back to his place, I left and he went to work. Late after work we met for drinks. And talk.

Saturday started with babka and coffee again - we knew this would be a short day because he was working and I was supposed to leave. We ran a small errand, walking through the neighborhood and winding up at a smaller library and then a lingering walk through a new grocery store. We walked home, laughing and talking the whole way. Not catching any real emotional pull thus far, I asked how it was all working for him. He was gentle when he told me he just didn't feel any more than what was just there. I knew then, I had known already. Unable to tell him how I felt (it was just too emotional), I went back to the medium where we were most comfortable and I wrote. The flight sold out. I had drinks with another friend that night.

This morning I knew he had read what I'd said - there was a new strain to his voice, a searching not present before. But we were determined to have the wonderful weekend we'd promised ourselves and we decided it best to just enjoy each other's company for the rest of our time. We had breakfast again and walked to a wonderful bakery to buy dessert for later. We went back to his place to talk, and soon afterwards I left so he could go to work. Tonight it rained for the first time all week. I offered to pick him up and take his bike home so we could have our dessert together. He graciously accepted. We got back to his place, made coffee and ate dessert, lit a few candles and listened to music. And talked. Then he walked me back to my car, gave me a hug and said goodbye.

It's been a long time since I've put myself in a place like this - and I suspect it will be a long time before I do it again. The weekend was the best I'd ever had, bittersweet though it was. He is a gem, mold broken, a man in the truest sense of the word (and a gentleman at that, gracious and polite and so real). This, my friends, is what it feels to ache, to want, to hope and to live.

I hope to make a flight later this morning, because my time here is done for now. I will see you all soon.

Thursday, August 11, 2005

The Manhattan Project

Introduction
Ladies and Gentlemen - we have arrived at the results stage of this glorious project, and I'm happy to finally have something to report. As previously suggested by a lot of non-native New Yorkers, New York *is* in fact a nice place to visit, but (and I quote) 'I wouldn't want to live there.' As this experiment winds to an end, I wanted to share with you some of the things I have learned about the city and about myself.

Findings
- Bag searches aren't happening everywhere in the subway system, only at two stations. So the nice reporting that I'm sure our network news channels devote to how safe New York's transportation system is is a little lean on reality.
- 97 degrees with 90 percent humidity makes stale urine the most recognizable smell in town. Sweat is a close second. It also makes for daily rushes at the local hardware store for air conditioners, which have gone up in price nearly 75%.
- There are no stars over New York. At least none to be seen. But there are fireflies at dusk.
- Every movie you've ever heard might be coming soon opens in New York. There's certainly no shortage of choices at the theater when you pull out your $11 ticket and take a swig from your $5 bottled water.
- It's weird to turn on the Today show to see Al Roker report on the weather, knowing he's talking about *my* local weather.
- Liev Schreiber is very handsome and intense looking in person. And he rides a beat-up street bike that he parks against a light post like everyone else around here.
- The New York Times is responsible for not only reporting, but exacerbating horrible fashion trends.
- All the cops are young and are as afraid to check trash bins around subway stations as I am.
- Barnes and Noble is a beacon of free toilet facilities everywhere.
- Dressing up your dog is cute except when it's 630am and you need to get his snow booties on and you're late for work and he doesn't want to get out of bed.
- And for those of you who know my dog well, there's nothing like tacking on two $35 taxi rides to the $150 - $500 vet bill every 21 days for his allergy meds.
- Anthony Bourdain, one of my very favorite people, just reported Monday night on the amazing trend of putting tapioca beads into a colored flavored 'tea-like' drink. Bubble tea, it seems, is still a mystery to many New Yorkers.
- New Yorkers fly to Florida in droves to enjoy the same shopping, the same heat, and the same people as in New York, but in less clothing.
- I can die happy knowing I have had the best pizza of my life in Brooklyn. And that I've had enough of it too.
- Union Square at midnight is a bustling place with rats everywhere and hundreds of people talking. I've had some of my best conversations on those park benches, and I will miss my chef dearly. He knows my heart.
- I loved the place I worked until it realized it was an airline. But I was lucky to have met one of the best friends I've ever had at that place. Fate was on my side that day.
- Cinnamon babka from Russ & Daughters is enough of a reason for me to fly back quarterly.
- Hatha yoga becomes bikram in this weather. I slid right off my mat and nearly broke my ass. But my skin was glistening and golden and looked lovely in the sweat.
- Grocery stores, if you're lucky to live in an area with one, close as early as 8pm here unless you're willing to go to one in the city. The overpriced bodega with its stale bread and old fruit is your only choice until it closes around midnight. After that, it's I-know-there's-something-in-the-back-of-the-pantry-I-can-eat-if-I'm-creative time.
- Nobody tells you how much work it is to go to the grocery store. Or the movies. Or to brunch. 'Ring, ring...hello? Hey, it's been a long time. Brunch, sure! Hmm, let's see - the G is running on a shuttle schedule today which means I can take it from Bedford to Hoyt and then transfer to the A which is running on the F line. I can take that to W4 and then transfer back to the A to go uptown. That place off 5th? Sure, I can get off at 72nd and then take the crosstown, or wait...maybe I can take the G to Hoyt then transfer to the F and then backtrack to Atlantic to catch the 4/5. That might be better. What? There's flooding on the tracks? Shit. Well, I'll meet you in 3 hours at Union Square and we'll just figure it out, how about that? I'll call you when I get there and we'll find one another. Yeah, I know about the parade, but...'
- Tons of children died here this summer. They shot, stabbed, dismembered, suffocated, beat, and otherwise were terrible to each other.
- Protests on the West Coast are a lot more fun than they are here.
- The 5 boroughs are a lot more segregated than I expected, and I've experienced more racism here than I ever did growing up in Texas. Race is an issue everywhere in everything, for every person you meet.
- You know your neighbors but you're not always friends with them. So you don't go knocking on your neighbor's door to invite them down to the local pub or to invite them over for poker night. Community means something different here.

What Happens Next?
I'm glad you asked. It's time to get the hell out of Dodge. Weather and pollution like this can't be good for my aging skin - and those of you who have spoken to me since I got here know I've lost a good amount of my hearing (another benefit of public transportation). I miss fresh air, quiet, and the warm friendships that saw me through so much - in the bar, in our apartments, on the back of motorcycles. I miss being able to take the dog to Magnusson Park to run to the shore, and I miss quality coffee, Thai food, and sensibilities of that coast. And let's not start on the men...(but be on the lookout for good ones, I'll need a wingman to introduce me).

But What About Grad School?
Reality hit. US Airways changed its flight schedule and our planes ran late. Then there was the $3k per class, the first payment due in about a month - loans were ready for that. But after realizing I was really pushing hard to tolerate my surroundings, I thought it would be true torture to force myself to stay for the 4 - 5 years it might take for me to finish, with a $30k bill due at the end. I don't know what I'm going to do, but I think that's going to have to wait - perhaps indefinitely.

When? Where?
Spring, I figure. If I had to guess, I'd put my money on the Emerald City. I mean, I've already lived there twice before. Maybe third time's a charm.

I've got some work to finish here, but after winter I'll start really looking for a job. That's priority one. Everything else will fall into place after that. Anyone planning to come out should.

So friends, that's that.