The box, part 1
2002-12-31 - 9:27 a.m.
Pull out the imaginary cardboard box. Get the big black magic marker that makes you a little dizzy when you uncap it and scrawl 2002 in big, squeaking, slick numerals. Stare inside at the flecks in the cardboard and the little packet of silica gel.
Scan the apartment, the desk, the photo albums, the files on the computer. Riffle through the memories in the brain, looking for the little mementos that ought to go inside the box. January: the great extroversion. The yellow invite to meet the neighbors. The flyer for the movie group. Shaking hands with politicians and looking for the door. Sasha's smile at the songwriter's group. Me in blue velvet and you in your clip-on tie and shining eyes. The flickering of the monitor and clinking of beer glasses. Open letters at the pub. February: Ellis Paul. Ethics & Rock n Roll. A red saturn and a new partner in crime. March: "vegetable" soup, soft flannel and the Saturday New York Times. Flynn and Ellis, honey wood, acoustics and darkness. A dinner party, Montreal Chinatown, Paul's studio with the smiling Buddha and the ancient, out of tune, incredibly lovable piano. Newfound longlost friendship. The stark curve of the Gugenheim, the tentative greeness of Central Park, feet on and on through the village, Chelsea, Chinatown...laughter and Chianti in little Italy. Construction cones glowing in Newark. Last-minute Rome...half-awake wandering city streets. Breathing in Wisteria and the centuries. Piazzas, the river, and how much I wanted to share it with you. Oh my. This is going to take a while. I'd better get a bigger box.�
Pretend it's 10th grade. Leave me a note.
eager for some spring fever - 2007-02-20skyrockets in flight valentine delight - 2007-02-15
tacky Easter to you - 2007-02-12
So Monday - 2007-02-12
iBoxed into a technology corner - 2007-02-06
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