The Box, part 4
2002-12-31 - 11:22 a.m.
October: Nervous anticipation. Trenton neighborhoods. Looking in your eyes and seeing something new and unfamiliar there. Shrieking preteens and backstage sofas. The beautiful, beautiful Italian men. Knowing I am not the same, but not quite knowing what to do about that. Too much time in my head but for once letting all those words pile out of my mouth. Luckily, so luckily, finding there was company there at the bottom to help me back up. Sending off my hopes and my words trying to make them reality. Bowling for Columbine and Dave Eggers' soft voice. Peace march, markers, posterboard, stickers, buttons, cell phones and starbucks. Plans falling falling falling apart. Dreaming of a novel and new ways to jump from the plane.
November: 30 came softly, with wine and friendship. Disappointment gave way to understanding of misunderstandings. Words spilled and poured forth and then ended abruptly with the crack of a hipbone on cement and days in the same jeans in the waiting room and by your hospital bed, holding your cool, smooth hand and wanting to take away your pain. Priorities asserted themselves and life made way. Peace there in your arms on your pillow and hating to kiss you there in the sunny morning and leave. The Iguanas and flashes of the way it used to be and you becoming twins and all eyes turned on you in that all-American New Jersey town. Smaller-scale protest with larger-scale preparation. Peaceful acceptance of rejection number one. Steve Earle and sick in bed. Thanksgiving that we've made it this far together. Citizen Cope at long long last and the month ending with wine, hospitality, friends and folk music. December: Shivering videoconferencing, script after script and stuck in the snow. You, lost on the freeways on your cellphone, then found in my apartment. backed against the kitchen wall, then quiet and asleep alone on the sofa. The wide, sweet smile and sweeter-still voice of Kris Delmhorst. Lost wallet, fire hall and your laughter there across the table with such a light in your eyes. Driving and movies and both of us avoiding what we have to say but don't want to say, but finally do and breaking what wasn't there to break anyway and luckily can't be broken. Falling behind and trying to survive the holidays. Upside-down hugs and little boy laughter bringing joy. Football and music and football and movies, friends and scripts, more scripts, more late movies...always there will be late movies, roadtripping, family and friends. The best are both, either born or made. I'm not sure the lid's going to fit.�
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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