October 23, 2008

my heart is in the right place, my brain in the dirt

Whether or not there is sun on my window can make or break my day. I like to wake up bathed in sunlight. I wake up and I feel that this morning is it and today will be The Day. It's a good thing.
There was sun on the window when we woke up. But that isn't why I did what I did next. Old habits get faded. They never really die hard- they come and go as they please with no regard to invitation or RSVP.

I imagined you getting into your car and starting the engine and maybe noticing a parking ticket on your windshield. I imagined what I'd say, how it would sound when I had it in me to say it. I imagined numerical codes behind my eyelids. I imagined Stonehenge. I tried to imagine more things, about what you thought about the near future, if I was in it when you saw it. But I couldn't.
I thought about your apology the night before. I may have echoed it the next day.


I couldn't be sure whether everything was different or nothing was changed at all. I can't decide which I prefer more or less.

I wonder if that had anything to do with what Van told me last night and then again this morning. Standing around a fancy Asian-inspired venue/hotel on the West Side (where I never go) in front of that band who does that ipod nano song in those commercials, and they're yelling back to the sound booth,
he tells me I'm hard to read. I'm a difficult read. A collegiate level read.
I wasn't sure if I ought to feel unnerved, or something like "taken aback." Or like a book maybe.
"You should open up more," he says. In my ear, because it is loud and there is live music not 10 feet from our faces. "I'm mean, I'm just saying... I don't know."

The band starts to play that song that I know. I recognize the electric drum beat. Deja Vu. I get this Distinct feeling. I don't know how to explain it, even to myself, but it feels like four years ago, how I was in the drawing room of the art building at school sometime late at night when no one was around. Michael told me about finding beauty in mundane objects. He wore a vintage leather shag-trimmed jacket and his hair was long and in a ponytail.
Just like then, there it was the other night. The Distinct feeling. This time it made me believe: this electric drum beat is extremely appropriate right now. I smiled and I'm glad it was dark. I did not comply necessarily.

This morning, after 3.5 hours of sleep, I walked down Broadway towards Soho when the shops were just opening for the day. It's the first time I can remember in a while when someone made a plan who wasn't me. The place, and the time. Sort of.
He gave me a copy of the band's CD who we had seen the night before that I said I thought was incredible. We ate cupcakes at a children's' book shop that sold cupcakes and I think I talked about opening up without actually opening up. Something like that.

I said, when I left for work, "You are by far one of the most interesting people I've met this year." And it was probably the one thing I said that I could really stand behind, since meeting him this year. I meant it more as a testament than a compliment.

And then I went to work and everything felt like no sweat at all and I was mildly surprised.

Tonight, Simone and I hit up our favorite cafe (the one with the tiramisu) in celebration for her promotion. We both got chicken dishes. The blonde waitress said to me, "You were here the other day." A statement, not a question.
She always reminded me of a small white bunny rabbit. Something about her nose and her voice. Like maybe anyone would think she's a little innocuous because she's blond and cute and smiles a lot, but after learning by experience, it takes smarts to be a waitress, especially in Manhattan, so I wouldn't necessarily agree with that.

"Yeah, I do come here a lot," I responded, half sheepishly, I don't know why.
"My friend. You met him the other night? He likes you."
I knew who she meant. And I'm glad she didn't say 'coworker,' or 'the guy I work with.' Anything like that.
"Oh, Chad?"
"Yeah! He's a good guy," she replied with a grin. "I'll tell him I met you."

Secretly I was glad Chad was not there because I'm trying not to look very foolish these days.
I hope it's working.

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