This year

This year has been eventful, to say the least. I've been all over the place geographically and otherwise. I've come out at the end of it better than I started it in some ways, worse for wear in other ways, but more optimistic about what'll happen next year than I was last.

This year I: Lived in five different apartments in two different states. Divorced my wife of nearly seven years. Drove across the country (by myself). Started writing again. Started taking photographs for the fun of it again (and grew as a photographer because of it). Changed my priorities drastically, for the better. Fell into love. Fell out of love. Proved that my instincts were generally right about all of those things. Lost inspiration. Found new inspiration. Lost almost twenty-five pounds. Started allowing time for myself. Made many amazing new friends. Changed my mind about some things, finally made up my mind about others. I lived, loved, laughed, learned, drank, abstained, fucked, fucked up, apologized, questioned, confirmed, tried, failed, succeeded, ranted, raved, found peace.

I came the closest I've ever come to breaking this year, but I didn't. I experienced the greatest amount of heartbreak in my life, but it didn't ruin me. I proved to myself that even at my lowest, even at my worst moments I never abandon hope, never stop looking for a way to solve things. At the same time, I learned that letting people go isn't exactly the same as giving up, that what you want and what is best can be vastly different and sometimes the best thing you can do for someone is to stop doing anything for them at all.

This year, I grew as a person, set new goals for myself both personally and professionally and learned to live in the past, present and future all in one moment...as often as I can.

Christmas Future

The ghost of Christmas Future is the most frightening in the Dickens tale and it's not hard to understand why. You can't change the past; you can regret it, learn from it, make changes because of it, but you can't change what's already happened. People don't fear the present, because it's easy to forgive yourself during the moment or feel that you have time to change. The future we fear is the one where we've failed to avoid repeating the past and correct the present and have at the end of our lives been made to suffer the consequences of our own actions.

I went out with friends last night and we talked about the future. I made mention of the move, of trying to split my time between here and there and these friends started suggesting ways to make it possible to stay. This is the way that the conversation has gone with most of the people that I've brought it up to. They told me that I belong here, that they want me here, but they are understanding of my situation, my circumstances and have told me that they want what's best for me.

We drank and laughed, we had fun at our own expense and each others in the way that only people that love each other can get away with. When everyone else left Molly's and headed toward the Marigny, I called it a night. I live in the opposite direction and decided it was best to head home. The last of my friends to say goodnight leaned in and kissed me on the cheek. "I love you, you know", she said before heading off. I waved to the rest of them, said goodbye one more time and walked into the night, feeling very fortunate that I have the sort of friends that take the time to let you know. I love the people in my life fiercely.

This Christmas has been hard on me, just like the first of every occasion usually is for anyone after the end of a long relationship. More than once I've felt that I wanted to forget about it, but every time I start to feel that way I've had someone here say just the right thing to bring me out of my funk, make me love this place, my life, the people in it.

I am keenly aware of my Christmas past, I see clearly my Christmas present and I know that my Christmas future is up to me.

Spirit of Christmas Present

I looked down at the Las Vegas strip, my head pressed against the window and I thought "I wonder where I'll be for Christmas next year"....

A year later and I'm not where I thought I'd be. I'm not living overseas, but back in New Orleans instead. I'm not celebrating a ninth Christmas with Sara, but instead celebrating the first without her.

This year has seen a lot of introspection from me. At this time last year, I felt a little lost, or like I'd settled for a life that wasn't my own. This year I'm living one of my own making and while it may not be the one that I planned, it's mine.

It's Christmas time, so of course I miss the good moments and have conveniently overlooked the bad ones. I warm myself with thoughts of the good times, like we all do during sentimental days.

I started dating this year, found myself seeing new people for the first time in the better part of a decade. Nothings really worked out, but that's probably because of my own obstacles as much as anyone else's. I'd had this notion in my head that I'd be spending Christmas with someone new, someone that would fill me with hope. Not deliver happiness to me in shiny wrapping under the tree, but give me the hope that it was possible, probable. It isn't up to anyone else to give me that though, I know that I have to find it on my own.

What I have gotten this year is a group of amazing, supportive, lovely friends that have become part of my family. They've take me to do things, invited me out when they thought I needed company, allowed me to be overindulgent when they knew that I sort of needed it. They've held my hand, they've put their arm around my shoulder, they've cheered me up and cheered me on. I love these people, deeply, for their part in my Christmas Present.

Ghost of Christmas Past

I woke up this morning feeling like I was missing something, but I wasn't really sure what. I laid in bed for a little while and then went and opened the french doors. It's cold outside, too cold to do this, but I crawled back into the warm bed and l pulled the blankets over me, letting the down comforter swallow me.

This time last year I was living in Las Vegas, still married but sensing that the end was near. I'd gone out shopping, bought her things that were beyond our means, just to justify the money we'd made, the way we'd made it. I looked down at the Las Vegas strip, my head pressed against the window and I thought "I wonder where I'll be for Christmas next year". I remember it vividly; the sun just starting to set, I could see my reflection in the floor to ceiling glass in front of me and I looked tired, sad and it caught me off guard to see myself this way, the face that looked back and me was not my own. This was not my life. The beautiful woman wandering around in the next room, she wasn't my wife. These things we'd collected, they didn't belong to me.

The packages I'd wrapped were all stacked beneath the Christmas tree that I'd had shipped from near where we'd grown up in Michigan (real trees are hard to come by in the desert). She'd decorated it without me, but maybe I told her too because I knew she would've anyhow. She put forth more of an effort than she had in Christmases past, but it was too little, too late and we weren't coming together for Christmas, but instead proving just how far apart we'd moved from one another.

When the friends she had invited over for dinner cancelled because they were having problems of their own, I was relieved. I was tired of holiday's being about entertaining at our place. I wanted it to be the two of us, but having it that way only because the guests said no made me feel like it was a cheap consolation prize.

We opened gifts and then went out to see the lights, fountains, flowers, and holiday decorations at the Bellagio. It wasn't a bad day, but it felt like the last holiday to be shared between two people that knew it was over. I felt as though I was in the movie Eternal Sunshine of The Spotless Mind, that she was my Clementine and we'd given up on running, that Christmas had been the last place I'd tried to hide her before realizing that it would all be over soon and I should just try and enjoy it.

So I did. We went home and I held her hand while we laid on the couch with the dog nuzzled between us and we watched terrible Christmas movies together. That's all I ever really wanted for Christmas anyhow.

(My own) simple rules for living in the moment

I do my best to live in the past, present and future all at once. I live the failure and successes of what I've done, I live the hope I have for the future. I live those things in the moment, (hopefully) without letting them cloud it. I'm realizing it's rare, what I (attempt to) do.

Lately I've seen people live in any moment but the one they are in, letting the past bring them out of it, letting the future paralyze them. I've seen them hover in some other time, some other place and miss the things that are right in the front of them. I feel sorry for them.

I've also seen people who only live in the moment. People who pretend that anything other than where they are just then doesn't exist, forgetting about responsibility, consequences, sometimes even loyalty, so that they can indulge in the moment. I feel sorry for them too.

I am the sum of my past and my present. I am the hope for my future. I never forget these things and I consider seriously what impact I'll have in other peoples lives with my actions. I live in such a way that I don't often have regret, and rarer still, do I allow myself to act in a way that will cause it for others.

I was born in the wrong time, I'm a child of the wrong era

I walked through the quarter today and listened to Strange Fruit. I closed my eyes and imagined dancing slowly with you, my cheek pressed against yours, your hand in mine. I turn my lips to kiss your face, slide them slowly down to your neck, kiss the tender little spot between your jaw and your ear, before coming to rest for a moment on your shoulder. My arm around your waist, my hand in the small of your back, I feel your skin on my lips, smell your hair.

The Way You Look Tonight comes on as I stop at a corner, waiting to cross and I almost forget where I'm going, because "i'm thinking of you..."

circles

I traveled out of town for a few days, visiting a friend on the east coast. I saw snow on the ground for the first time in four years and I'd be lying if I said it didn't excite me a little.

I had a good visit with Monica (she really is such a doll). We went to museums, ate at great restaurants, wandered, talked, laughed. I find that I fall into things naturally with her, easily picking up from the moment where we last left off and that's something that I appreciate greatly in friends.

I met with Mandalay who's company I always enjoy. We talked about the prospect of moving (she back here, me; well...), dating, family over dinner at Circa and then went our separate ways with assurances that we would see one another when she comes home for the holidays.

I got home last night, had a friend pick me up at the airport. We grabbed a bite to eat on the way home and I was back to work nearly the moment I walked in the door. I went out to 80's night and had a good time, as always, but I was too tired from a long day of travel to make a night of it, so I said goodnight, went home early and I slept.

This morning brought an excited text message from Margaret inquiring about food, so she, Leah and I met at Stanley to have breakfast, talk about the weekend, laugh about the night before. We talked about the difference in thoughtfulness between summer clothes and cold weather fashion, before bundling up to go out into what passes for cold in New Orleans. A hug from each and we went our separate ways. While I walked, I thought about how my life was better for having each of them in it, their different, opposite, balancing approaches to everything making perfect sense, complimenting each other, making the reasons for their friendship obvious. They are my ideal company for breakfast on a cold day, or for any other time for that matter.

Baby it's cold outside

"I really can't stay - (Baby it's cold outside)....I've got to go away (Baby it's cold outside)"

I'm on my way to visit friends and I've got a million things on my mind. Where i'm going, how I've spent the last few days, and you. Yes, you.

Every night I've had the best intentions of staying in, having a quiet night, taking it easy, but my good intentions were laid to waste by the allure of tempting offers made by my friends. Dancing, playing with Noisician Coalition, late night food at greasy spoons; all of these things lured me away from the comfort of my own bed, kept me out late and made me happy that I went out, stayed out, went to bed at sunrise.

Saturday night was a good night. Scratch that; it was a great night. I went out with L & M as well as two of their friends and we danced ridiculously, drank like it was our last chance and had the sort of fun that had people we didnt know wanting to join in all night. We laughed until our faces hurt, danced until our feet were sore and then went to get late night food well after I'd planned on being in bed, being asleep, and of course, I wasn't sorry.

Sunday saw me waking with friends in my typically empty house. We laughed and joked, relived the night before. I went out to dinner for another friends birthday and then to a burlesque show. It was much more low-key than the days leading up to it, but wonderful none-the-less.

Sitting on the plane now, I'm listening to christmas music through my headphones, thinking about the weekend I've had and the next few days coming up. I feel that despite all the trials and tribulations that I've had this year, all the ups and downs, I've led a charmed life.

I've been listening to "Something in her shows" from New Orleans Bingo Show sort of incessantly.
"Cinnamon, I remember when...you were the only thing that got me through the weekend..."

I was also just turned on to this video featuring them :

(mis)connection

It's been a strange day. I woke after a short sleep and a long night out with friends. I connected with some people that I hadn't expected to and misfired with others that I thought i'd connect with more easily.

That word, connect, keeps coming up in email, text, conversations. It's not one that I would choose and yet other people keep presenting it to me in different circumstances that make me accept it.

I went for a long walk today, taking photographs along the way, having my own little adventure, photo safari as I made my way uptown, getting off the streetcar at Napoleon and then wandering back down Prytania. I walked through the garden district, up Saint Charles and thought about a couple of small revelations I'd made in the last few days about who I was connected with and why. I rode the streetcar home after i'd walked far enough and made my way up Bourbon on the way to my apartment. I made my way up the stairs, dropped the camera on my desk, my jacket on the chair and then I made myself something light to eat and began editing the photographs.

The late night and long walk got the better of me and I did something unusual; I laid down for a nap. I got a text message or two while I dozed and it came up again (the word connection) and it occurred to me that the reason that I wouldn't typically chose to use that expression is because people often use it to describe something they want to be there but isn't and so it's left a bad taste in my mouth. It's not always the case, but it has been often enough that I have a slight distaste for the word, because there are so many better ways to articulate that you identify, sympathize, relate.

This year has been a challenging one for me, bringing about many changes in life that could have easily left me sad or bitter, but instead have given me plenty to be thankful for. I've had hardships, trials and tribulations, but it's all brought happiness into my life along the way.

I'm thankful for my family, who've been kind, loving and supportive, who've listened when I needed them too, which was more often this year than I've ever called on them in the past. I'm thankful that they've grown as people, that we've grown as a family and that I have amazing people to call mother, sister, father.

I'm thankful for the old friends in my life. The ones that have made it a point to tell me that they cared, when I needed to hear it. The ones that I've known for ages, who believe in me, who've been there when I was blue. I'm thankful that they've shared their lives with, allowed me to see into their brightest and darkest moments and made me closer to them for it.

I'm thankful for all the new friends that I have in my life as well. The friends that baked me cupcakes on my birthday, that made me scavenger hunts and wouldn't allow me to sink into the sadness that hovered near. I'm thankful for the way that they distracted me when it was called for, supported me when I needed it and let me do what I needed, including make a few mistakes, so that I could continue to grow. I'm thankful that I've gotten to step into new lives, to be a part of them, to live differently, more broadly, richly because of these wonderful new people.

I'm also thankful for those that I may not share as large a part of my life with anymore, but who've forever left their mark. I'm thankful for the time we had together, no matter if it ended like we'd hoped or not. I'm thankful because my life is different, better, for having had them pass through, linger, stay for little while or a long while.

I'm thankful for every smile, every sigh, every tear, prayer, excuse, up and down that I had this year, because it's all lead me to now, because it's all a part of my colorful adventure, it's who I am and so I'm thankful for it, for this, for my life.

it's the first time, the last time

We had a conversation and I think it went well. We decided not to date anymore, which is sort of interesting since we never really started. We had a conversation about breaking up, despite the fact that we weren't ever actually together. We were rational, sweet to one another and everything that you could hope from a person when you imagine breaking up, except we weren't technically dating to begin with...not really...

We spent time together and agreed early on not to get too involved, which lead to spending more time together and another conversation about how our situations weren't right for one another. Then we had yet another conversation based around the possibility that I was going to move and I got the sweetest note anyone's ever written to me:

“… even though you haven’t made a decision, I think we both know the facts and that on paper, the smart thing to do is not what your heart thinks is good for you. And even if you leave, I’ll still love you. And when you come back, I’ll welcome you. And we’ll go to Flanagan’s. And to Buffa’s. And to Yo’ Mama’s. Just like we always did. We’ll make stupid jokes and I’ll sneak glitter into your suitcase. I’ll fall asleep in your lap… the next time you come back we’ll do it all over again.

You know, just in case you were wondering what would happen if you left. “

It's a lot of work staying together when you aren't together. It's also challenging to break up with someone that you aren't dating. We knew better to begin with, but we did anyway (I'm not sorry for it), so we say goodbye and tell each other we can only just be friends. We meet each other for coffee and look each other in the eyes, speak calmly about the fact that it's over even though it never started and then she follows me home and we lay on the couch talking until she has to leave for work. We promise to be friends and then we kiss each other on the lips (but chastely) before she climbs into her car and drives away.

So it's over before it began, but it sure was good while it wasn't.

I want to live here

Someday I'll own one of the buildings that lines Pirate's Alley. I'll be able to look out and see the flowers in the garden behind St. Louis Cathedral and I'll be able to smell the Night Blooming Jasmine every time I open my window.

Nutcracker Suite

There is a store that’s dedicated year around to all things Christmas, that somehow makes me feel like it’s all right to begin celebrating a little early. They have an impressive collection of nutcrackers, music boxes, baubles and ornaments and while on my photo safari yesterday I snapped this picture.

I live on the corner of two old streets in the French Quarter and have a balcony that wraps all the way around. My neighbors have already strung lights, meticulously arranged displays and have spent hours making it look just so. I feel like I wouldn’t be appreciating their work properly, so this weekend I’m going to see what can be done about it.

Who wants to come and help me decorate?

the library I'll own some day

I want a library one day that climbs from the floor, all the way up to the ceiling. I want there to be so many books that trying to get to them all will be impossible. I want shelves that are lined with books that I'm excited to read, authors I've always meant to get around to reading and books that people suggest to me that I would never have thought to read. I want to be able to walk up to those shelves and pick at random what I'll read next and smile when I look at the cover.

a brilliant night

The note that the day started on should have been a good indication of where it would lead., but things kept popping up that made me optimistic that it might get better at any moment.

By evening I'd exchanged a dozen or so messages with my ex wife, but for a change, it was going well. We were being kind to one another and despite the fact that doesn't always last, I was optimistic that maybe this time it would.

I left the house in the evening to meet Johnny Law for a drink. I was on my way to One Eyed Jacks, when I looked up and saw Scarlett sitting in the window of Boondock Saint, with her new boyfriend. I heard she'd come back to town to visit and had brought him with her, but we hadn't crossed paths. She was already looking at me when I realized she was there and when our eyes met, she blushed and looked away for a moment. I smiled and waved at her and she met my eyes with a smile and a wave in return.

Scarlett was the first girl that I'd dated after Sara and she and I had parted paths in a completely unsatisfying way. There was a time when I wished we would cross paths again, even if only for a moment, but that time has long since passed and when I finally did see her, I kept walking with nothing more than a smile and a wave (and that was enough).

I went into One Eyed Jacks and had a glass of Redbreast with Johnny Law, while we both talked about exes, about life, about plans for Thanksgiving dinner. We talked about what we both needed to do to improve our lives and weather we were moving toward that or holding a circling pattern instead. We left and headed over to Flanagans, continuing the conversation about life, love and the pursuit of happiness while we took our time moving along Royal Street. John pointed out where he lived, where his ex had lived and the places they'd had good times, bad time, crazy times along the way.

We sat in Flanagans talking for a few hours, while I waited to hear from Charlotte Sometimes. She and I had been spending a lot of time together, but were both reluctant to say "dating" or "seeing each other" because of the complications of her situation as well as mine. We'd had discussions that suggested we should end the situation before we got more involved with one another, but each of those conversations, despite what we'd agreed on, had brought us closer together.

I'd wanted to call it an early night, but I'd stayed out because there was a good chance I'd see her. When she texted me asking to me to meet her at another bar, i paid my tab and headed over there (John had already left). I arrived to find her sitting with her ex boyfriend, who she'd just had a public argument with a few days before that had left her embarrassed and she and i in an awkward situation. Seeing the two of them together made me immediately apprehensive, but I was determined to not let it get too ugly or awkward.

Friends of mine had walked with me from Flanagans down to lower Decatur street and they'd been at the bar next door. They'd been plotting to come and extricate me from the situation and when L and her ex boyfriend stepped outside to have a chat, they came in and told me I should leave with them then, not say goodbye, walk away from the situation before it got any uglier for me. I was very close, but I'm not the sort to just vanish (I sometimes wish I were). They left without me, looks of disappointment on their faces.

I went back inside and asked Charlotte what she thought she should do and she couldn't give me an immediate answer. Her ex left, but that was his choice more than hers. Things being that unclear for her made them immediately clearer to me, so i told her she should go home. We talked for a little while and I told her we could continue the conversation later, but that I needed some time because I wasn't happy with the turn things were taking. She got in her car and headed home and I got in a cab to head into the Marigny, but ended up having them drop me off a few blocks away because everyone had changed locations.

I went inside the R bar after talking my friends into one more round with me. We went inside and I was lectured a little more not to tread lightly with affairs of the heart, things like that. I heard from Charlotte who said she was almost home. She was supposed to call me when she got there and the fact that she hung up on me when I told her to call me back when she made it home safely made my friends advice sound more and more reasonable. I texted her and got so answer. I called her back twice and she didn't pick up. She sent me a message this morning saying that she'd gone home and fallen asleep, but I couldn't imagine a circumstance where I would have thought it was ok to behave that way if I really wanted to continue the conversation we'd been having about where we would go from here. She wasn't so intoxicated that she was having trouble driving, talking, walking, but apparently she'd had enough to forget that we were walking a line.

I laid in bed and thought to myself. I'd had feelings for Scarlett once and passed her in the night with a nod and a smile. Sara and I had been sending each other messages which had stopped abruptly earlier in the day, but then she sent me three at the end of the night, just as I closed my eyes. Charlotte didn't answer my calls after things didn't go her way. This trinity of (potential) heartbreakers were on my mind and I wanted to forget about all of them for long enough to fall asleep.

I opened my eyes and looked at my phone and the last message I had received was from a friend that said "just want you to be happy. Come to mimis", and that was enough. I closed them again and drifted off to sleep.

Catching up

I fell asleep last night at a reasonable hour for a change. By fall asleep, I of course mean lapsed into a coma after a sleepless week caught up to me.

I laid down last night while it was still early enough that they hadn't even turned the music up downstairs to full volume yet. I drifted in and out of sleep as it got louder, but after the week I'd had, it couldn't keep me from sleep, even if it was fitful. I woke every few hours and answered messages that were pilling up on my phone during the hours that people typically know me to be most available. I slid right back into sleep after consuming an entire bottle of water in three ravenous gulps. I woke later and polished another bottle, as though I were sweating out the week in my sleep and I need the water for what's to come.

I woke early this morning and it was drizzling. The sun had just started to rise and it was one of those rare hours of the day where it was quiet, the trucks not having yet begun rolling down the street, the people having gone home and not started to come back just yet. I listened to the rain, just the rain, as I laid in bed and tried not to think of anything, except wether I wanted bananas foster french toast or blueberry pancakes.

will you still?

We sat at the bar after the burlesque show, all of us lined up and then wrapping around the corner. We made suggestive comments and did shots as we waited for the sort of greasy food that you use to celebrate the end of something. We laughed and joked, drank and were happy. When we finished eating and got up to leave, I thought to myself "i'm going to miss this" and I stopped to consider what that meant.

I'd been struggling with the idea of if I should stay or if I should go and had considered myself on the fence in regard to the matter. Earlier in the evening I'd been to a birthday party and the birthday girl was reveling in the fact that she and I were in New Orleans again (we'd both left and come back) and the points she was making made me want to stay. She told me 'this is the place that loves you, even if you go and then come back; they love you here, they welcome you back'. She was speaking of both of us and she didn't have any idea that I was considering moving away. She told me that what she loved about New Orleans was the fact that any time, any place, there would be someone here wanting you to be with them and missing you if you weren't. She'd thought no one would show up for her birthday when the day had gotten late and guests hadn't really started arriving. As the evening wore on, more people than she'd expected showed for the celebration, to wish her well, to love her.

Eating at the bar after the show with all of the people that I've gotten to know, become close to recently I had the sort of moment you want to stretch past the night, into the next day and carry pieces of it with you everywhere you go. You laugh and at the end of the night your cheeks are sore from all the smiling, but that makes you happy too.

But that's sometimes the way life is, isn't it? It waits until you have a moment of happiness to let you come to a decision that is going to be difficult. It wraps a hard choice in a pretty moment so that it'll be easier to swallow. That's what last night felt like; like I'd enjoyed New Orleans so much that I didn't really have a right to object to the fact that I just might have to go, say goodbye and hope that the birthday girl was right; that it would love me still, when I return.

Just go (stay)

I sat talking to my mom on the phone listening to her tell me about her woes, which are similar to my own and I felt the ebbing toward a choice in my life that I had been resisting. I held the phone to my ear and realized that the idea of a move back out west was no longer one that was met with my own outright refusal, but rather with the quiet acceptance that it might not just be a possibility, but was becoming probable. She told me what her situation was and there, on the phone, i realized that I was considering it and told her as much. She wasn't entirely happy with the idea, but she understands that sometimes you just have to do what needs to be done.

It complicates things for me here though. I've made friends, grown close to people that I want in my life. People that I know will be, no matter if I stay or if I go, but the part they'll play will be instantly different based on the decision that I make, the future I rule out or embrace.

I have a lot to consider, when I lay my head down at night. I have a week to come to a final decision, start putting one foot in front of the other to start the march forward. I think I already know where I'm going, what comes next and I've started spreading the word that it's what I'm considering, but of course; as soon as I make mention of it, the world gives me more incentive to stay, makes it more difficult for me to go.

Be still

I'm laying in bed, with the french doors open, a cool wind blowing in. The curtains are drawn back, letting the sun shine on my face as I catch pieces of conversations from the unseen people walking below. The fabric of the flags lining the balconies on both sides of the street pops and snaps as the wind has it's say in how they hang, move, fly. The plastic beads that are tangled in the wrought iron from past celebrations dance one bauble at a time in rapid succession across the surface of the railing before being lifted up as though the wind were telling them to hush, for a moment. Cars pass, dogs bark and I lay here, thinking of the present and of the future.

Wind

They say that Ida is going to make things wet and windy tonight. The storm will hit east of here, but it'll bring some wind and rain with it.

It makes me think of 2002, when S and I had just moved down here. There were two tropical storms, a week apart from one another. The first opened a hole in the ceiling right near or bed and we decided to move before the second one, which turned out to be DURING the second one.

The movers took the big things for us, but we waded through the water and took the boxes of small things ourselves. S was wearing combat boots, laced high and I warned her about the potential of "swamp foot", which she laughed off, thinking I was making it up (her feet were pins and needles the next day). We got the last of the things moved just about the time the city got the pumps working and suddenly the knee level water we'd waded through was back down beneath the curb, where it belonged.

We stood in the window of our new place and watched the people outside. A man wearing a wetsuit with fins, carrying a drink in his hand, passed beneath our window before disappearing into a bar. We laughed and hugged in the window before changing into dry clothing and heading out to eat.

We sat down inside of Clover Grill, two of the only people in the restaurant that weren't working there. We watched CNN, listened to the cook and the waiter complain and it all seemed surreal and humorous somehow. We are hamburgers and watched the rain run down the big windows. We sat on the same side of the table and looked down the street toward our new apartment.

We went in that night and listened to the rain on the windows while we fished out parts to make the television work so we could watch the weather repots that would tell us if we should go, leave, see. We huddled alone together and it seemed, really, like there were just the two of us and then everything else. We went to sleep that night thinking we could wake to howling winds or apocalyptic scenery, but it didn't worry us for some reason; we weren't afraid (we were naively excited, perhaps).

That's the feeling that I look for today, how I'll know when I'm with the right person; everything will seem like it's going to be alright. Not just at moments when it might not be, but more often than not. I know that life isn't all peaches and cream, but when you've hit a dark patch and you can look at the person you are with and feel like everything is going to be all right because you are together, well... that's what we all hope for, right?

Dreams

I've been having a lot of seemingly prophetic and slightly disturbing dreams lately. I had another one last night:

I dreamed you decided to marry someone, not because you loved them, but because you were lonely. I was at your wedding because you'd invited me, but you wouldn't speak to me. You and your wedding party were taking pictures in my car, with the top down, and you looked so sad, but no one would let me near....

I've dreamt of people from the past persecuting me my current lifestyle, career and the choices I've made, while people from the present came to my defense, to my aid. I dreamed about living in a place where I didn't speak the language and I was smiling because I didn't have to answer any ones questions.

I don't know what argument my sleeping self is having with my waking mind, but they clash when I close my eyes and these dreams are the result of it all. I don't put a lot of stock into any one dream, but the fact that the last few nights have brought vivid thoughts about conflict in my life has to mean something.

Each of those dreams had me dodging the trouble at the end, solving it in a way that wasn't completely obvious or direct. They typically end with me adapting, dealing, changing the things that I'm able to and accepting the things that I can't. These dreams don't make me feel helpless, hopeless; they make me feel like I'm good at dealing with things, even if they don't turn out the way I might have hoped.

..I waited for you and you finally came to me. I knew if I spoke to you, you'd leave, so I kissed you on the cheek, wishing you the best silently, and I squeezed your hand to let you know that I'd be there for you...

what I've learned

It's been a long week. A very long week. It's come at the end of three consecutive weeks, all very similar in their hectic nature, but different in what they accomplished and what I learned from them

I had a staph infection in my leg (a spider bite that got irritated from all the standing/marching/walking/rubbing of tight fabric against it), which caused it to throb regularly during the most crucial moments, of course. It's almost completely gone now, but I can see the toxicity in my face in the photos from Carnal Carnivale, and I remember thinking very feverishly that i was determined to not let it get me down, but promising to pace myself, go home early when i could, rest (i didn't).

I've had a chance to get reacquainted with some old friends this week; ones that I'd lost track of and missed dearly over the last few years, who've come back into my life in a very short span of time. In the matter of a few days I picked up nearly where I left off with friends that I'd thought were lost to me due to changes in lifestyle, geography and circumstance. I'm happy to have found them again (to have found you all again). I realized that some people were keeping better tabs on me than I might of imagined and it made me feel cared for, loved, in a way that only old friends can make you feel.

I've also found that some impossible situations aren't as impossible as they might seem, some things that seemed probable have proven unlikely and that missing someone isn't the same as wanting them back in your life. I've seen doors close, others open and found that some things that I thought I wanted, I really don't, while other things that I never considered have presented themselves to me and made me appreciate fresh perspective. It's been a week/month/year for learning what I want, what I accept and what I won't.

I met with her last night for a drink and as I passed behind her, I hugged her, maybe just a little too much; like I was saying hello in a different way for the first time, or maybe some other way for the last. "Everything ok?", she asked and when i told her it was, she seemed slightly confused and laughed just a little. While we sat there, talking, having a drink, I reached out and touched her hair lightly; I'm a physically affectionate person but felt like i'd never really shown that to her.

We parted ways with a discussion of our where each of our weeks would take us and I hugged her, gave her a little kiss on the neck before she got in her car and drove away. I walked home, stopping to say hello and goodnight to Jenny Kay before going home to finish some work and then finally crawl into bed.

I have another model coming into town today to work with me. It's the last thing that I've got slated in a very busy week before I can spend some time on myself, relax a little, have some fun that doesn't lead on any parade, to any place really, except where I want it to. I plan on being lazy all day on Saturday and then in the evening going uptown to have dinner with my friend "Johnny Law" at Delachaise. All these things that I'll do that day will be for me, to make up for the celebrating i didn't do during the past week's celebrations; it's time that I started doing more of that.

Close

We've been getting along well, spending more time together than I'd imagined we would. We've gotten closer, more quickly than I might have thought would be the case. Maybe it was timing, maybe it was need but whatever the spark was, it was there for us both, it seemed.

I knew all along the impossibilities of our situations (I think we both did). It took a sobering moment to bring us back to who we are and what that means to each of our respective situations.

We sat over coffee, looking away as often as we looked at each other. We were quiet, kind to each other as we always are. We asked about the other persons past, explained our own and hugged goodbye, parting under the notion we'd think about were we could even go from here and come back to the conversation a few days later.

We've had some wonderful moments together and really appreciate each others company, but I think we both know that the most we can be hopeful for is friendship. In this case that isn't the consolation prize it might be otherwise. To count her among my friends would make me fortunate and I wouldn't dare under-appreciate that. I adore her and who knows, maybe the closeness that we have will make us the amazing friends to one another that it would seem we both need in our lives, the pressure of expectation being lifted allowing us to just be.

As she said it herself:
"... engulf ourselves in each other's warmth when/if it's needed. There's comfort in knowing that there will be someone to have a drink with, someone to watch as they eat, someone to hold hands or hug you when you need it, someone to watch a movie with....for the time being anyways."

I'll always be you your friend and am happy to have you in my life, no matter how.

Still though; I can't help but sigh a little.....

This is not Halloween

Yesterday would have been our seventh anniversary, but instead is the first after the divorce. When we got married we had a costume ball wedding here in New Orleans on Halloween and it was really all that you could have hoped for. This year, I haven't really put together a costume. I have an outfit I wore for fetish night and a variation I wear for Noisician Coalition, but I didn't have a Halloween costume, makeup, anything to mark the occasion. They were face painting people as zombies at Voodoo fest to try and break a record, but I didn't sign up, because I just wasn't feeling it.

I was appreciative of other peoples costumes and efforts, but i didn't feel like I was really a part of that. I felt detached from Halloween, like a spectator that had stumbled upon it rather than really belonging to it.

Later in the evening I spent some time with a friend and felt a moment of connectedness, but later had to confess to myself that it may have just been me feeling the need for it, rather than it being true. I left the festival, went home and cleaned up and headed out for the night. I texted my friend asking if they would like to meet me, but she had other plans and they included people that might be awkward for her to be around both of us at the same time. I told her not to worry, that I'd find another way to occupy myself and she thanked me for being a good friend.

I ran into Ella waiting for a drink at the bar that I'd been feeling I needed to make it a point to go to, to support, because they are some of my favorite people. She was dressed in the same costume S wore the last year we celebrated together and it made me a little sad to see, but I made sure not to let that show. We had a drink with Jessica before she said goodbye (she's headed home today) and then wandered up and down Decatur stopping so she could take pictures of costumes and admire them. We met up with her friends, lost them, met them again and then they were gone. I'd like to think that we were good company for one another, both of us appreciating the holiday, but not really having anyone to share that appreciation with, so to speak. I know that I was was happy for the company. Eventually I walked her back to Flanagans where I left her to wait for friends and I went home.

The weather was nice; I was thankful for the long red coat because it was just chilly enough to need it. I looked down at my mud covered boots, the product of a day of marching in wet grass and wasn't worried about getting them cleaned knowing there was another day of mud stomping ahead. I thought of the friend that I'd spent the day with and as I looked up from my muddy boots, I saw her ahead of me. We passed one another without saying a word, because she was with the awkward situation we'd been hoping to avoid when I decided not to go to the show she'd been at and they were holding hands.

I got home and laid in bed, thinking about Halloween, how it used to mean so much to me. I thought about the day I got married and how Halloween was such the perfect choice for it. I thought of all the happy Halloweens that I'd found a costume, even if it was last minute and marked that this was the first time in my life I didn't dress up and really celebrate. I missed the past, thinking my former self incapable of having not celebrated Halloween properly and how I wouldn't have stood for it. I thought somethings changed and I hope that it wont stay this way forever.

I closed my eyes and decided that next year I'm taking back Halloween. This year I let it happen to me, but next year I'm taking it back, it'll be mine again.

the other side of the lens

The model that's been visiting me from out of town went home today. We shot together all day yesterday and it turned out great, as it always does.
"I hope this doesnt sound strange" she said, "But I want to take your picture. I want you to get undressed and stand in front of the window. If that isn't too weird will you do that for me"?

I thought about it for a moment and decided it would be alright. She was inspired by the tall windows in my apartment and had a vision in mind, so I was happy to participate, just as she has been for me any number of times.

I stood still where she placed me, waiting for her to put things just as she imagined them and then she walked backwards down the long narrow hall, through the far doors and pointed the lens at me.

Carnal Carnivale

Here's a video from the show that I've been working on. I was really happy that it all came together, given the sudden changes in dates I could have the venue, last minute talent lineps, etc. I think it turned out pretty well and the venue wants the event back, so it'll happen there again soon.

carpe

I've been toying with the idea of driving back to where I'm from to visit family. I've got a niece that's a year old that I've never met. My grandmother is also hospitalized, so i need to go and visit her as well.

My last trip home was for a funeral a year and a half ago and it wasn't a good one, for any number of reasons ranging from the passing of my grandmother to the unavailability of my ex to make any effort to support me (she never even considered going with me and barely uttered a word of support, even when I called her late at night needing her). I felt so disconnected and alone in that moment that I knew life changes would have to be made in order for me to ensure a hope of happiness in the future.

I recently met a girl named Ellie who's lived not far from where I'm from. I mentioned that I might drive there and she expressed an interest in splitting gas, because she hasn't been back in a while. I'm considering it; I'd welcome the company on a long road trip; my last one took a lot out of me in some ways.

I've also been spending time with someone new. We have been taking things slowly, but she's been an amazing friend to me and I appreciate her more every day. I'm not really sure where we are going just yet, but I'm happy to have gotten the chance recently to get to know her.

My life has taken lot's of turns recently. Lot's of doubling back and sometimes circling. I felt like I was in holding patterns for a little while, but in stepping back, I realize I've been making more progress than I thought. I've been changing, moving away from the things that I was unhappy with and while every once in a while I lament the loss of the past some moments, I've been moving forward steadily to seize the future instead.

Making Noise

Last night I marched in a Noise Parade for what felt like an impossible distance carrying a garbage can fashioned into a drum. Noisician Coalition has been become a great release for me; there's nothing quite like banging on a metal trash can until it starts to loose it's shape, while making music, to let you release frustration. We all dress in black, white and red, but with no real uniform code.

The building process had been a little frustrating for me. There were so many things going in in my mind that the noise of other peoples instruments as I tried to concentrate on my own was overwhelming at some points. I'm glad that part is over for now, because playing is what I've been waiting to do. Marching with everyone in a parade, next to each other, turning noise into music; that's what I've been wanting to do.

We started in the Bywater, warming up a little anxiously. We were leading the parade, with only the flag bearer and the police escort ahead of us. The large rolling metal contraption called simply "the box" was being pushed by one person and drummed on by two others. It lets out a deep bass sound that sets the tone for what we are playing.

My drum has two sides, one high, one low, but every surface makes a sound when pounded on with sticks or mallets (I carry both). I listened to the sound of the The Box as well as to what everyone else is doing and I find my place. I close my eyes, counting in my head and when people start to get sloppy I get a little louder hoping to pull people on track. When things get too repetitive for too long, I switch it up a bit and see if something new catches with other people. When I loose focus I stop playing to find it again, jumping back in where I belong.

We marched on forever, stopping on occasion to let people catch up with us. When we were still, I'd close my eye's and play, letting my drumming match the bass rythm, lending a higher sound to it and reinforcing that it was the center of the noise. Despite it all, despite all the noise, my mind drifted back and forth between the people in my life and the noise I was making.

On Frenchman street I pounded away on my drum finding a good rythm with the girl standing next to me. She is tall and pretty; dressed extravagantly as we all are. The people smile and cheer as we play, some people dancing past us as we come to a stop in the middle of the street. We fell together and then parted in our drumming, then back together again and for that moment there weren't any issue's in my life, there weren't any problems, people I missed, things that needed to be done. There was nothing except my friends and I making noise.

should have, but didn't

We worked together in adult entertainment for years and even though we've been divorced now for a few months, separated for longer, I still have unreleased material that I'm cycling out. Material that we shot together, are both in and is a reminder on a daily basis of the relationship.

I need to keep releasing this material, but that doesn't make it any easier. It also doesn't make it easy that she went to work for my largest competitor, taking the name and idea with her, reproducing it with their considerable resources and then plastering it in all the places I'm sure to see it.

Break ups are always hard, as is the idea of your ex sleeping with someone else. We all know that it happens, but can you imagine for a moment seeing some evidence of it every day as well as having to look at material of the two of you together? It makes getting past it awkward, difficult.

Today I had to tell her that I couldn't offer her help any more and that I didn't want to hear about her projects. I scrubbed away my list of places that I could do without, where I might come across her. I said out loud my frustrations to the empty room and let them go so that I could send her messages without being hurtful, but it wasn't easy.

I'm friends with everyone that I've ever dated, but this is proving to be a challenge for me. It's the circumstances and it's my own fault. I didn't consider when entering into these sordid endeavors that we'd split and I'd be left sifting through this box of photo's because that's how I make a living. I didn't consider that I'd have to try and cheer her on while she worked against me to capture the same audience and worked with other men. There were a lot of things that I should have considered, but I didn't.

keeping it in perspective

We sat next to one another, discussing the common behaviors of the person we'd each been with that had struggled with addiction. The self righteousness; the indignation at the fact that despite how many times they hadn't kept their word that they shouldn't be taken for it unquestioningly. The constant promises of a better tomorrow, today that were explained away after the fact by the fact that we hadn't believed in them enough for them to bother.

We listened to each other and were able to predict what the person that the story about was going to do next, because we'd both had similar experiences with people that suffer from compulsions that allow them to justify even the most selfish behavior.

When you are in the moment with someone, when you love them, it's easy to allow a lot of things that once you step back will make you feel foolish. Promises that were obviously never intended to be fulfilled, loyalties that ran shallow; these are things that you don't see until you step back far enough to take it all in, and then you feel embarrassed that you didn't see it sooner.

My ex sent me a message today asking for my time, which she would later answer back that was for the sake of answering a question about a task of her new job. She works now for my competition, taking with her the secrets and research that I accumulated over the last three years and making a career out of my hard work. I've offered to help her, so I'm as much to blame as she is for allowing it, but today, when stepping back, it became obvious and I had to rescind my offer. I don't want to hear about it any more, or know about it. I certainly don't want to help her accomplish something that ultimately hurts what I've done and affects my future. She will undoubtedly see this as unfair, but I can't be responsible for that either. It isn't my job any more to see to her future. I sent her a message saying I'm sorry, but I can't help her be a part of my undoing any more.

I know that what I'm refusing to do isn't unreasonable, but standing on top of the issue it's easy to lose focus of the big picture and feel like something that you know will be harmful to you should still be considered for the sake of the person you are with. We know better, this friend and I, and I'm hoping that in seeing each other go through similar circumstances will help both of us keep our perspective.

not so strange (stranger).

I saw her again, finally, after not having run into her for some time. She was with someone else and so was I, but I waved to her from across the room and she smiled at me weakly when she left. I ran into her again the next day and she seemed reluctant to make eye contact, letting her roommate do all the talking initially, but eventually she gained confidence and spoke to me with enthusiasm (if only for a moment). It seems strange to me that we should be so awkward around one another; I've not figured out what that means just yet.

I spent the evening out last night with friends and it was nice to get things accomplished as well as have a little fun. I like to step out of my own head, get out of the house, particularly since I work alone from home.

The day was long and turned out to be challenging but I'm learning after a certain point to let go, move on, not let people or things bother me so much that they change my day, my outlook, my perspective. When I lay my head down at night I have to be able to shut it all off and while I haven't perfected this just yet, I'm getting better at it.

you, the sun and I.

Today's been one of those days; The sort where you start out with a plan and it gets derailed. Some of the changes in plan were positive; the sort that improve your life because you took the time out for them. Other interruptions were productive, causing me to focus on things that maybe needed my attention more than I've realized, but in the end were worth the time.

Regardless of the rhyme or reason for any of these distractions, I can feel the change coming in my life soon. The change in plan, the change in priority, the change moving me toward what I have to do next; where I got from here and what I'll be doing when I get there.

I walked in the sun today, changing sides of the street so I could feel it on my face while I thought about who I am and what I want. It felt good to consider this while I walked through a gorgeous autumn day, because that means that I'm not stalling, losing focus, settling for what's in front of me. I'm willing to cross the street to feel the sun shining on my face.

shut out the light

It's taken me forever to get the curtains for my bedroom; the windows are so tall that special ordering drapes long enough to cover them was a necessity that ended in frustration when it was cancelled for lack of stock. I happened, amazingly, to come across four panels that were long enough when i was looking for something else, and I snapped them up on the spot, regardless of the fact that they weren't exactly what I was looking for.

I went to hang them today after buying a ladder (which I had to carry home through the French Quarter) and found that not only were they still not quite long enough (108 inches), but the building has shifted enough that my efforts for hanging them with precision were actually counterproductive. I settled for measuring the distance from the floor to the rod so that they would just touch the floor, even if it meant they were a little uneven (you'll either tell at the top or at the bottom; I decided to be true to the floor instead of the ceiling).

The character flaws you find charming when not considering what you'll have to live with are still great enough that despite my task being harder than it needed to be, I don't really have much to complain about. It might not be exact, but nothing else is in the room either and the pursuit for perfection is, after the first rod was hung, something that I was spared.

Now I'll sleep, even when the sun is bright. I'll be able to have the privacy in my bedroom to not worry about getting dressed to go to my dresser just because it's near a window.

Fall

It's fall here, finally. I woke this morning and it was cold. In going to shut the air conditioner off realized the temperature in the room was ten degrees lower than it would have needed to be on anyhow.

I pulled a shirt over my head and slid back into bed, thinking it's time that I go and buy blankets. I'll be having company over and the long New Orleans summer has given me the idea that it would never end, so i just haven't gone to get anything heavy enough to keep warm, yet. Now though, i'll have to.

I also realized that in the divorce and all the moves, i've lost my cold weather clothing. I have a light jacket and a heavy coat, but everything else is gone. I'll have to collect new things, piece by piece, along with new blankets.

It's the sort of cool weather that makes you want to drink hot tea, stop for warm coffee, eat foods that are heavier than your can stomach during the hot summer days.

It's the sort of weather that inspires you to want to stay in bed, wrapped around someone for just a little longer in the morning, you know; keeping each other warm...

onetwothree sleep!

I've never seen someone fall asleep so fast in my life. She laid her head in my lap and said "I'm going to fall asleep right now", and it was instantly done. Perhaps I'm more impressed by this because I'm an insomniac, but I've never seen someone fall asleep on their own command before. I had a roommate once (a magician) that had doves he trained so that by putting them on their back and shaking them slightly up and down they would fall asleep. I've seen hypnotists make people fall into a trance with the snap of their fingers. None of these things was as impressive as the girl that fell asleep on her own command.

not very good at sleeping

It's (far too) early. My sense of responsibility made it hard to sleep last night, snapping awake constantly in anticipation of the alarm this morning that meant that I had something briefly to do. It only took a few moments, but it took over my night.

I'm not very good at sleeping.

I walked through the French Quarter and saw people unloading trucks to fill shelves at grocery stores and freezers in restaurants. I saw them delivering cases to replenish what we drank last night.

I walked the uneven sidewalks and heard the sounds of cheerful morning conversation, the radios playing news stories and talking about the weather. I heard doors and gates opening and closing as the rest of the world went to work and I went home to try and go back to sleep.

I laid in bed for half and hour but I could still hear these things and so i gave up trying, because I'm not very good at sleeping.

dressing down

We rode back in a cab from uptown. All night we'd looked at each other and then looked away, but not in the sort of way that belied interest; it was just timing and the result of being in the same packed room.

I stood outside waiting for the cab I'd called when she came out. I had a feeling she was just waiting and hadn't called one, so when mine arrived I asked her where she was going and if sharing one was a good idea. She told me it was, so we did and we talked a bit on the way. She told me her name, where she worked, what she did. She told me about her time in Chicago.

I paid for the fare up until the point of my destination and I got out with a casual goodbye. I think she was shocked; that she'd expected some flirtation, some advance; perhaps an invitation to join me.

I'd see her later at different venue and she'd be introduced to me by a different name. She found me on one of the social networking sites and her photo's and name there made it impossible for me to tell that all three people where one girl in the same. Someone mentioned she had conspiracy theories and so she was generally distrustful of the internet.

I saw her today and didn't recognize her right away. I was wearing sunglasses and listening to headphones and I noticed her staring at me. I stopped as I slowly realized that her hair was different color, she was wearing glasses and she was almost unrecognizable from the person I'd seen out nearly a half a dozen times by that point.

We chatted for a moment and I considered that she was actually far prettier when she wasn't wearing the wig, when she dressed more conservatively without the extreme makeup. I asked her if she'd be out tonight and she mused that she wasn't certain, but when I said I would be, her smile got a little bigger.

I didn't linger after telling her where to find me next. I told her it was nice seeing her and then went on about my way. When I was a few steps away I stole a backwards glance and she had an expression that suggested she didn't know what to make of me. I put my headphones back in while considering it fair that she shouldn't know what to think of me, because I wasn't sure to think of her either. I felt certain, however, that when I saw her next, we'd both be trying to figure each other out.

sometimes a smile is contagious

Marsha is a sweet woman who tends bar at one of my favorite places. She's found someone who makes her smile in a way that just seeing her makes me (and everyone else) happy. You often hear of people glowing, but seeing it in person is infectious; it makes you believe that everything is a little better, brighter because they see the world in such an optimistic way. She smiled tonight and told me about her date and my life was happier because of her happiness.

I went for a long walk today. I do this often, but today I walked hard and fast, listening to music as I made the loop through the French Quarter. I peered into windows but people were a blur. It was sticky outside already and the sweat beaded at my temples, my shirt stuck to my back. It took me less than four minutes to walk from one side to the other, so I looped back around, i stopped and grabbed a bottle of water at Flanagans, but I wasn't done walking, so I said hello and goodbye quickly before going back out again.

New Orleans is a busy city, so it forces me to pace myself a little. You can't really run through the quarter; there are too many cars and people to do that. You learn patience and restraint when you have to slow down for the elderly couples snapping pictures or the people pushing strollers. You are reminded to look up and appreciate when you follow their lenses. You learn to smile again because their enthusiasm is infectious.

(i'd be a) fool to believe

We had our week of not talking and then last night she called. She told me in the morning it would be at a certain time and then of course it's hours after when she said and the conversation has to be cut short because it's late.

She starts the conversation with whimsical musings about how she thinks of me all the time, wants to see me but she's scared. She wants it to be perfect, which nothing ever is and I tell her that waiting for it to be means we shouldn't count on seeing each other ever again.

"So are you dating anyone" she asks, which is why she really called. She is afraid I am. She tells me that she wants to show me that she can be nice to me, that she's making an effort to be nicer to people all in the same breath as "are you seeing anyone". She also makes it a point of wording her response to the same question elusive enough to try and inspire jealousy.

From the moment I tell her I'm not really dating anyone, everything goes downhill. She has to let me go because it's late and her phone is dying, but she stops to take another call in the middle of it from a friend.

Most of the questions about how I'm doing are so I'll ask the same. Most of her curiosity about my life is in wanting to know how it is without her. Most of my words of encouragement or affection are met with no response or two character text messages that smile at me with as much effort as I ever should expect.

I doze in and out, listening to the music of Berlin Dancing. I've come to find it's my (much) younger cousins music and her voice plays on repeat, soothing my fever and making me feel as though there is someone here, taking care of me.

These seven days

Looking back at the last weeks worth of posts, they all have the potential of seeming whiny, self-indulgent or obsessive of my past relationship, so I thought it time to put it into proper perspective.

A week ago, we had a blow-up. The sort that comes seemingly out of nowhere. I'd sent flowers the day before, thinking that sweet little gestures might open the door to better conversation, offer a reassurance that I did in fact want to continue to talk to her. It didn't have the effect I'd hope and was received with barely a notice. That wasn't hurtful enough in and of itself, but the attacks that I started getting the next day after another failed moment when we were supposed to talk on the phone; that's what bothered me.

It bothered me because I've come to realize it makes her feel better to have me want her, better yet to reject my want and all of this is justified because I left her. I want to let her pound her fists against me, but I don't know if i have it in me right now. RIght now I just want to be sweet to her and not have her punish me for it. Right now I want us to forgive each other (me for the reasons that I left her, her for my having left), but I don't know that it's possible.

When we had that blow up a week ago, she acted as though she was put off or put upon by my attention (who knows, maybe she's right), so I said "Fine, I won't text or call you anymore, I'll leave it to you. Let's not speak for a week."

That was six days ago, and I wonder if it'll turn out to be the end to more than just that argument.

Sick

I'm sick. Again. Laying in bed a little later than usual, watching Moulin Rouge and lamenting the fact that I, who am normally very healthy, has succumb to being sick twice in one month.

I'm lamenting something more though; the fact that there is no one to spoil me, pamper me. I'm not the sort to accept this sort of offer, mind you, and I have been getting them lately, but it's from people who haven't spent enough time with a healthy me to suffer me with a cold.

It's just that I've never had anyone do that for me, really. I was married for almost seven years and I've never had someone stop what they were doing to take care of me.

At some point it became that I was the sort of person that would just get out of bed and weather through. The sort of person that didn't need pampering. That's not how it started though. That's where it ended up after not getting it for long enough.

There are some things in life we'll claim to never have needed if the person we hope will give it to us, fails to do so often enough. We'll be fine without chicken soup, we can get our own tissue, we know where the medicine and the bottled water is.

Sooner or later we'll believe that about everything that person has to offer, including their love. We survive weak moments without it and it becomes a luxury and no longer a necessity, if we ever do even feel it.

When that love is gone, what we'll miss won't be the love that was there; it'll be the love we wished were there. It'll be the cool cloth on the forehead that never came. It'll be water never pressed to dry lips or the soup that wasn't carefully spoon fed us when we are too weak to do it ourselves.

We don't want to need another person. We don't want to rely on them to do these things for us. We do, however, want them to have enough care, compassion...love....to do these things for us without being asked or feeling obligated.

So the next time you go on about your day while the person you care for lies in bed, feeling under the weather, ask yourself if you've brought them comfort with your question "will you be ok today" or if their quick confirmation is meant to make YOU more comfortable not feeling obligated doing anything for them.

The open doors let just enough of a breeze blow in that I lay comfortably in bed and watch a movie. I push at my phone, rotate it with my fingers as I consider sending a message or taking a call. The rain drops start to land on the iron rails and wooden slats and I decide not to (make the call).

We said a week but it only took me a matter of a day to realize what needed to be done, so now I'm trying to be patient and wait out that time so i can say my word, have my piece.

I listen to the splattering of rain on the concrete below and listen to tourists as they consider how to stay dry, but it's too late and they know that.

I push the phone under my pillow, make sure the ringer is switched off and draw my hand out, leaving the phone behind so that I can forget about it if it's out of sight. I rewind the movie back past the moment I stopped paying attention and I look out the window, wondering if the rain or the movie will be a better distraction.

in the distance

Last night was a night of running, searching for certain people around the city that I chouldn't quite track down. I'd arrive at a restaurant or bar just moments after they'd left or be seated having a conversation that I couldn't excuse myself from as they passed outside my window, cutting through the balmy New Orleans night.

I was at dinner with Mona when Ella walked passed. We'd spent the night wandering the city together a few nights before, but I hadn't asked for her number (I should have) as I was sure I'd see her around again. I walked Mona home after we finished our little bit of business and went back to where I might find Ella, but she was gone; she and her roomate had left moments before.

Every place I went I missed the person I was looking for, but found someone else instead. At Flanagans I found Ashley, who I'd been out with a few evenings before. She was entertaining a friend who was in from out of town, but we went to the next stop on my list together, keeping each other company until her friend had to catch a cab back to her hotel and I walked her home.

We stood outside of her gate for a little while she hid tears in the creases of her smile because she'd wanted something recently; really needed it to give her encouragement in this sity and it hadn't come through. I hugged her and told her everything would be alright before she slipped through the gate, stopping to right turned over garbage cans, but never looking back as she disappeared down the long driveway.

I went back to Flanagans, hoping Ella would be there, but she wasn't. Andy, one of the owners was though and I always enjoy conversations with him. I sipped on whiskey for a while before Jenny came in and I decided to call it a night. She asked me to walk her home and I did, listening to what was on her mind as we made our way the few blocks.

I'd circled the city on foot, looking for people that I knew were near, but I wasn't fast enough to find. I found others along the way, some of whom helped my search, others who slowed it. At the end of the night I hadn't found what I was looking for, but I had the feeling that when I did, it would be worth it.

I thought about the moratorium on speaking that S and I had set and as I lay in bed, I drafted a few letters one of which I was sure would be the final answer to that. I felt that at the end of it we wouldnt pick up where we'd left off; things wouldnt be better, they (we) would be further apart than ever. It made me sad to think about, but also realieved to consider having the tension over, the constant sadness past and to be able to slowly, surely, but life back in order. We'll be happier when we can both accept that it might not be possible for us to be friends right now. I'm not to that point just yet, but I see it there, in the distance.

When it rains

When it rains in the afternoon, I open the tall windows in my office that lead out on to the balcony and keep them open to feel the cool air crawl inside, which is better than the artificial breeze, though sticky.

I sit at my desk and write distractedly, edit, reword and manage not to care about progress in what I'm writing as much as watching the encroaching drops as the wind carries them further inside, closer to my feet.

"You have a rain fetish", my friend Brian tells me.

"Admittedly", I reply, and after having lived in the desert for three years I'll make no attempt to hide how much I've missed the rain.

circling purgatory

I went to sleep at a reasonable hour last night. I dreamt of the present, conversations I'd had during the last few days, point's I'd have liked to have made. I thought of messages I'd sent to people (I checked my phone and I really hadn't). I slept though, which is a vast improvement.

It's been two day's since the last time we spoke; something of a record for us lately. I'm happier this way. I miss her of course, but the constant wondering what her motive was, why she's sweet one moment and then evil the next; it's too much. I left her, for good reason mind you, and started talking to me when she swore she changed. She hadn't changed though (If she was, it was subtle and for the worse). I have a strong feeling that her biggest motivation is to get me to take her back so she can reject me and feel better about herself. I'm half tempted to let her believe all of it, just so we can maybe move past this one day. I'd rather throw myself under the bus and get it over with then be dragged behind it for miles.

I suggested we not speak for a week after the way she treated me during our last conversation. She said I was a distraction and so I told her I wouldn't bother texting or calling her any more. I told her we should wait a week before we spoke again, and that was the last that either of us said. I have an ominous feeling it'll be the last thing we say to each other for a very long time; we'll stubbornly refuse to contact the other person until at last it's necessary and we've both moved on. When we do speak again, maybe hearts won't break in the same way. Perhaps we'll both have learned to stop circling purgatory and then we'll do what we are meant to do; move on.

Whisper of a thrill

I showed up at Jacks to see a bartender friend I'd been hoping to speak with, not so much to see the band. Angie (the bartender) wasn't working, so I stood at the bar, watching people as they sipped drinks and talked about which of the two bands they'd come to see.

I'd seen Elly around but hadn't ever even really made eye contact, so when I ended up being invited to join she and her friends and when we started talking, I was pleasantly surprised to find her quite engaging. When it was time to leave the bar, she took my hand in hers and lead me outside to where her friends had stopped just ahead of us and held on to it for a moment as they looked at our interlocked fingers somewhat incredulously. Her hand slipped from mine and we didn't take them up again; I could feel her fingers, even after they'd gone and I looked for the right moment to take them up again, but it never really seemed to come.

We wandered the city until late in the night, long after we'd walked her friends home and it was nice. She was nice. She's from my home state, so we had a lot to talk about. Her accent was thick, like it is in the far north and she cited Finnish heritage. We had one particularly hangout spot in common, so that's where we went. Friends of mine sat across the bar, wondering if I needed rescue or if they would be interrupting and truth be told, I wasn't entirely certain. There was something about her that made the situation pleasing, when with some others it might not have been so much.

We stopped for late night food and then I walked her home. She asked me if I wanted one more drink at Flanagans, but I politely declined; it was late and I wanted things to end while they were still in that magic hour and not after we'd overstayed a moment.

I didn't take her number; I should have. I'll see her around though and there is something thrilling about finding someone again, about the search; will I see her today? Will it be tomorrow? Will she smile as brightly as she did when she said goodnight? That's the thrill isn't it; whispering in my ear?

nights like this

Coffee and gelato; a conversation with someone that I thought might be dismissive, but who is (trying to be) understanding that I work in adult entertainment. It isn't easy, I know. She comes to my apartment, takes the tour, runs her feet over the rug and say's "Yeah, I'll be over often;I'm going to make myself at home".

She's witty, charming, pretty; all the things you'd like in a girl. She's well dressed and articulate; the sort of girl that will make you hope she really is ok with what you do, even if you fear secretly that she won't be, that some day you'll go to do a shoot and something will change; something palpable that will make everything different from then on.

Still though, you laugh and eat your gelato. You smile when you walk her home, and you hope.

Coffee and gelato; a conversation with someone that I thought might be dismissive, but who is (trying to be ) understanding that I work in adult entertainment. It isn't easy, I know.
She comes to my apartment, takes the tour, runs her feet over the rug and say's "Yeah, I'll be over often;I'm going to make myself at home".
She's witty, charming

How soon is now

"Tell me if you want me to fuck off or tell me if you want me to hold your hand. Tell me if you want me near or far. Not eventually, not tomorrow or yesterday. How do you want me now?"

"All the above. This is still raw to me I'm at a different place then you."

"I can't be near and far, so if you can't decide, I'll choose far".

She doesn't want "far" she tells me. She doesn't want "near" She wants me close enough to push and pull me, have me at her disposal. I left, she say's, so that entitles her to act how she is, despite the fact I may have (did) good reason to have left.

She's swore to me, to others that things are different, cried that no one gives her a chance to prove it. So I do and instead of seeing something different, she just rails against me for having left. I give her the choices and she refuses to make them. I tell her that she can have whatever she wants, but she won't say what that is. She won't give me an answer that will give me the ability to exercise an option, because she wants me to be every bit as frozen as she is.

She knows that I don't like stationary bikes or treadmills, because you are running fast and you should be so far, but you aren't. She like's them though and wants to watch me peddle away.

open up the doors

I closed my eye's for a few moments last night before getting up for a photo shoot at 6am. I'd been out late, and this time around I was in front of the lens instead of behind it. It's for a band and we are being photographed for a local magazine because we are playing a local festival later this month. We carried our makeshift instruments far out into the industrial area and took photo's until we were rained on. We all stopped for coffee and then took a handful more photo's (this one was snapped on my phone) after the rain cleared and I've just made it home to a shower and hopefully bed.


The night didn't start as cheerful though. It's had it's discourse, all related to trying to be a good person, a good friend to my ex. She tends to do hurtful things, like tell me about the fun she's had fun doing something else and then making excuses why she doesn't have the time to talk to me. She's quick to call or send a message if she wants me to know what she's been up to, the adventures, the fun, or in need of advice but when it's my turn to talk, she's never there. I'd been trying to take a zen like approach to it all; never be bothered by her, by way of never expecting anything from her. Then I realized that just means that I've got a person occupying a large place in my heart, my head, my life that doesn't offer anything in return and so I decided to make room; open up the doors..

the music to this montage is streaming in my head

Sitting in Stanley, finally having another meal I'd always meant to. I'm not a fan of breakfast, but banana's foster french toast seemed too good to never know. Looking through the windows out into Jackson square, seeing the tourists wander by while the waitress asks each new table where they are from. It's one of those "tourist in your own town" moments.

Driving down Prytania with the top down, the sunlight breaks through the branches of impossible oak tree's as I pass beneath them and I think to myself; "no matter where in the world I go, when I think back on New Orleans, this is what I'll think of".

Walking through the quarter and onward to Frenchman, past the large group of tours blocking the sidewalk, I hear make-believe or exaggerated history and my friend and I smile knowing the difference; the tour guide seems to know we know because she loses her pace as we pass.

Live music at a bar on Frenchman street. It's not the sort that I would choose to listen to typically, but it seems right, in the moment. I have drinks with an old friend, the man behind the bar used to work with us.

I have an amazing sandwich at a little restaurant around the corner from my doctors office. It's covered in hollandaise sauce and is undoubtedly bad for me, but it's delicious. It strikes me as a funny sort of thing to have next to a doctors office; like having a cigar shop next to an asthma specialist. It's good, but more than I can handle and I forget the rest of it after having carefully wrapped it to take with.

Laying in bed with the french doors open to the night sky. Flashes of lightening and the sound of rain falling gently (but I know there is a storm coming soon). I can't help but love this place and even if I did try not to, there would be some little reminder waiting to convince me that everything here is beautiful in it's own way.

All of these moments happened within two days. Each of them passed and were gone so quickly, but they make me think of a quote:

“Everything has its beauty, but not everyone sees it”
Confucius

I'm determined to see it, but I've admittedly got some help. In a city like New Orleans I'd think that it would be a greater challenge to fail to see beauty than to see it; there's something beautiful everywhere.

Things I never said

"I wake up in the morning and the first thing I think of is you. When I lay in bed at night, trying to fall asleep, it's you that I'm thinking of. I spend most of the hours between trying not to think of you too much and despite my considerable efforts, I still haven't figured out what it'll take for me to stop loving you."

We all have those things at the end of a relationship that we wish we would have said. Things that might not make a difference to you, but would to the person you said them to. Sometimes those things can be hurtful, but the things I never said that I'll regret the most are the ones that would have made her smile.

a new season

Last night I walked out of my apartment and it felt like as hot and humid as a summer night. I was sticky within a block and thankful for the air conditioning when I sat down at one of my local hangouts just a block after that. I was restless and didn't stay long; I haven't been drinking much and hanging out at the wrong bar when you aren't with the right people or aren't really interested in drinking for the sake of it, it isn't very much fun.

Jenny, the bartender is a friend of mine; we'd gone to dinner earlier that evening and had often used each others shoulder when things were going awry. She was watching out for a friend at the end of the bar who was being hit on by two drunk men and flirting with a guy at the other end that she's taken an interest in. Sitting in the middle of it all, sipping a second rate absinthe that wasn't appealing to me wasn't very much fun, so I decided to go after paying my tab and leaving the half full glass on the bar.

I walked back outside and the humidity was gone completely and it had cooled down dramatically. It was almost hard to believe it was the same night as when I'd left the house. I had a moment of feeling that I'd stepped into a different day, a different time entirely. I wandered down to Flanagan's and felt immediately more comfortable. I always try Jenny's bar first, out of loyalty to her as a friend, but as soon as I walked in, I wished I'd been there all night.

Erin came in to see Huggy (the bartender) and ended up sitting with me when she saw that I was there. We talked for a long time about all the usual sorts of things; laughed about the ridiculousness that seemed to plague the lives of friends as well as our own. We left the bar together, which is always reason for talk in a small city

Erin and I parted ways back in front of Jenny's bar; she went inside and I went home. I walked into the night, enjoying what felt like fall and was home and in bed in no time at all.

I woke this morning to the feeling that it was cooler outside than inside, so I opened the french doors that lead out onto my balcony and found it to be true. It's a beautiful morning;fall having finally arrived in New Orleans, so I'm laying in bed, typing out my disjointed thoughts from the night before on my laptop. I'm not a morning person, not a breakfast person, but I'm thinking of going to get banana's foster french toast at Stanley; something I've been meaning to do for a while. I have an appetite early this morning, as though somehow I know i'll need my strength today, need the nourishment for some sort of change that the fall will bring.

Today I'll take my laptop out into the world and I'll work from wherever I can find a seat. I'll use fall as my inspiration and change scenery often, moving about through the french quarter and enjoy the weather, but I think i'll allow myself to linger here in bed and enjoy the cool air blowing in, at least for a moment longer....

you are my sunshine

I was singing to you, in my dream, as you packed the things of mine you'd found in the boxes that had arrived at your new place. I knew that it was over; this was the last commitment to you and I never being together again, and I was a little sad and yet happy for you.

I sang:

The other night dear, as I lay sleeping
I dreamed I held you in my arms
But when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken
So I hung my head and I cried.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are gray
You'll never know dear, how much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away

I'd started singing it thinking that it was a happy song; one that would cheer you up, but as I sang the words, they took on their true meaning for me and it made me blue.


When I'm awake, I can reason with myself, tell myself all the reasons why it didn't work and every one of them makes perfect sense. When I sleep though, my waking mind isn't there to intervene on my behalf and I'm prone to fits of missing her terribly.

open letter

Dear S.

Lets not be sad that life has taken us in different directions, let's be happy that ours ran side by side while it did. I'll always wish you well, no matter if our paths cross again or not (I hope they do).

Hope; now there's a word. Hope, for me, means feeling something is possible, even when I can't see how. I have hope that you and I will always be a part of each others lives. I have hope that we will cheer each other on, comfort each other when we need it and always be the friend that the other needs.

Even if I don't say it often enough, I will miss you. Even if I don't say it loud enough, I'll always love you. Wherever I am in the world, I'll be wishing you well, cheering you on and wanting nothing but the best for you.

Yours,

J.

hit or miss

I hadn't heard a word all day, after a very long discussion the night before. I sent her a message, wishing her a good day.

"All done. Missing you. How was your day. I miss you." was her reply.

I was surprised at the emphatic admission of missing me and was moved, for just a moment, at the idea that she might, actually (miss me). I know the way these things work though; an admission like that will inevitably bring some form of destruction later.

The movers had finally arrived at her house and she was with them, having trouble with the company she hired to ferry her things (our things) to San Francisco. We'd been sending messages back and forth and then she called me to tell me more about it.

She knew that I was at a show with a friend, which is part of this cycle. She was home while I was off doing things that she would want to be doing and she didn't know who I was doing them with. This is the sort of situation that's most prone to make her text and in this case, even call (a rarity).

We spoke for a few moments and she assured me she'd be in touch when they were done and had left the house. When they left, she sent me a message saying she was going to have a glass of wine with her friend and I asked if she was still planning on calling me.

"For sure we are just a couple blocks form my house"

I continued on about my night, taking into consideration the time difference, and when I went home, I laid down ont he couch and fell asleep with the phone on my chest. I woke at eight in the morning to no messages, no missed calls and I called her, to make sure she was alright. She didn't answer, but she called me back moments later.

"Is everything ok?" she asked

"Yes, I wanted to make sure you made it home safe. You said you'd call and never did".

"I forgot".

We'd gone from an astounding admission that she missed me to (supposedly) forgetting that she said she would call all in a few hours with no issue's arising between us in the meantime. I wasn't surprised, mind you, but being right brings less comfort than one might imagine. At least this time, I hadn't waited up.