signs of early summer

2005-06-07 - 11:49 a.m.

Friday night met a friend in Chinatown for dinner at an excellent Vietnamese restaurant. As he's describing to me his favorite things about the place and his experiences over the long time he's been dining there, he mentions that he thinks the waitstaff may all be gay. I offered to switch on my gaydar and see if I could confirm his suspicion. Just then he left for the men's room.

Within a minute of his departure from the table, the piped-in music changed to a Clayderman-style pianoloungey version of "Feelings." The waitstaff all joined in to sing along with a style reminiscent of the "Fa-ra-ra-ra-ra" christmas carols in the Chinese restaurant at the end of the movie A Christmas Story. I tried hard to stifle my laughter, but was still shaking and had tears in my eyes when my friend returned to the table and I promptly announced that I could already confirm. "Already?!" Oh yes, clear cut. Such perfect timing.

Saturday night was Cuban dining al fresco, mojitos and night air, a cover band and paper bracelet, miles of legs, fingers down the spine, taxicab kisses, laughter and electricity.

I spent Sunday on the bay with my parents, sailing. The waves rocked us through a lazy mid-afternoon relaxing, then we raised the sails and tacked our way up one river, through the bay and back into "our" river before resorting to the motor again to get us back in time that I could still drive home. We watched the way the colors of the water change as the sun moves from overhead to the horizon. I can still smell the salty, humid air when I close my eyes. I feel like I belong by the water.

Back at the pier, I bent down and my back spasmed, making me lean to the left again (my body seems to be saying it's 10:30 all the time now). I can't believe this happened again. It's not quite as painful as last time, but it's not good. Working hard to straighten out again. I'm not ready to let my body dictate my life again just yet.

Today I submitted four pieces of writing for possible publication. It feels good to sink back into that. Now I just need the muse to come visit for a while.

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Pretend it's 10th grade. Leave me a note.

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