Less than three minutes

I excused myself for a moment after showing the amazingly sweet message that a friend had sent me to Jenny and I walked out into the streets. It was hot and sticky, but I needed a moment alone and so I cut a path through the New Orleans night with the sentiments I'd just read making my eyes a little glassy.

I passed the cathedral on my way around the block, but I didn't look up, I looked at my shoes, at the well-worn, uneven stones beneath my feet and I listened to the noise fade a little behind me. A taxi rounded the corner without stopping for the sign and so I paused on the street corner and lifted my eyes past the driver and up at the windows that were lit. For a moment I imagined a new life for myself on the other side of one of them and then continued back to where I'd started.

I came back to the bar and sat down where my bottled water was still waiting, dripping onto the copper top of the long bar. I took a drink of it, wiped away the condensation and rolled the bottle across the back of my neck for a moment. I smiled a little at Jenny and rejoined the conversation, but my mind wandered back to a single, simple, beautiful line that had been added as post-script to the message..."I know that waiting sucks, I will make it a point to wait with you.". I smiled because it was true on all counts.

I'd like to be here today.

"So it goes"

I had a biopsy today, which I wasn't expecting. I'd been under watch for something else and as it turns out, there was enough reason for the doctor to take a snip of me and send it in for examination.

This doctor; he's a friend of mine. I trust him implicitly. We've gone to dinner before, he's been to my house, I've been to his, but it's been a long time since we've been quite that close. He put the sample of what was worrying him into a little vial and then wrote his newest phone number down on a piece of paper and suggested we should go to lunch soon. It was the careful manner in which he approached the suggestion that made me think that he was trying to go about things in a very specific way...

I've got a week to think about this, about the way it was handled and what it all means. I tried to go home and rest and an hour long nap gave to restlessness. I found myself in my local bar after a conversation with my mother led me to not want to sit in the silence of my apartment. I'm the old fashioned sort of guy that doesn't (typically) believe in drinking before dinner, but today seems like a day for an exception.

I'm getting better acquainted with my couch tonight; it's someplace that I don't spend enough time.

I've been moving through this week in a dream-like state, trying not to think too hard about where I'm going or when. I've been living in the moment, feeling like my life is a Vonnegut novel; all connected when I take a step back but slightly out of context when I examine each moment separately.

I took a riverboat cruise on the Mississippi today and was home early. I watched terrible movies from my couch and was vaguely distracted by the rain tapping against my living room windows. I worked a little from my laptop and researched train tickets to Austin, flights to Portland, Florida, Las Vegas and New York and at opportunities here in New Orleans. I looked for an (easy) solution to avoid where I'm probably headed next (Los Angeles), but I already knew there wasn't one. I want to consider every option carefully, make sure the next adventure carries me far enough toward my eventual goals that I'll be happy long term and not just in the moment (I already know how to do that).

In the meantime, I'm enjoying New Orleans. And my couch.

San Francisco

I had a really good time in San Francisco, despite a rocky moment of disappointment that followed my foolish optimism that Sara and I could maybe be friends. I'd toyed the idea of wether or not I'd even see her, but I do want us to be friends and so when she asked if I would, I agreed to. It went well, like it always does in the beginning, but it disintegrated quickly when she got jealous of a friend that I was going to spend time with. As it turns out she missed out on my friendship, which seems like a bigger loss than me missing out on hers.

Kacey and I spent a lot of time together on the trip and I was very happy to have her company. She's a doll and I'm happy to have gotten to know her even better while in San Francisco. It was her birthday the last day I was in town and we started the celebration the night before. We brought a little bit of New Orleans to San Francisco and had a really great time.


We rode the carousel and took pictures of each other. We went to a friends bar and drank with him. We went to the places I’d loved before and explored new places entirely. We played with nearly everything at the Musée Mécanique, walked the pier, laughed at the fact that there is a church whose address is 666 (DiMaggio and Marilyn Monroe were married there) and explored the city with the enthusiasm. She was really perfect company.

I'm back in New Orleans now, reflecting on the past, considering the future and grateful for the people that I have in my life presently. Everything doesn't always turn out the way that I want it to, but sometimes the best thing that can happen to you is to not get what you thought you wanted.

I have quite a few things to say about this trip Trip to San Francisco I'm on, but it's not quite over yet and I'll save those thoughts until it is. In the meantime, here's Kacey at Musée Mécanique!

just a year

"I didn't know you were married! How long ago was the divorce" said the woman seated next to me at the bar. We are acquaintances, so it didn't surprise me to hear her say that she hadn't known as much about me. It did surprise me that I had to reach for the answer.

"It'll be a year.....next week", I said.

It occurred to me just then that I was approaching the one year anniversary of the date my divorce was made final. I also realized that without even considering it, I'd agree to take a business trip, one that coincides with another friends trip, to the same city on the other side of the country that my ex-wife now lives in. I'll be there on the anniversary of our divorce.

Sara found me online the other day, knowing that I'd be coming there and said "so will you be too busy, or will I get to see you while you are here?". I told her it would be a shame to travel all that way and not at least meet for coffee, say hello. It's always been in my nature to try and keep at least some semblance of peace between myself and those I've loved and lost. I wonder if it's the right time for both of us though. I hope she's well and worry that I might be a disruption, a distraction, in her coming to terms with it all. I don't want that for either of us.

I sat listening to music today, getting over a bad case of food poisoning, watching the afternoon rain slide down the windows, waiting for the skies to clear so I could shop for the things I'd need for this trip. I thought about why I'd come back to New Orleans and realized that I'd done just what I wanted to while I was here, but that I was ready to move on. I don't know precisely where, but I know it's time.

I've had my head turned recently in a way that I haven't before (and I don't mind admitting that despite the impossibility of it going anywhere, I didn't mind having it turned). She cooked for me, sang for me and it felt like she really saw me and not just the possibility of what I could do for her, who i could be for her.

The woman responsible for turning my head as I mentioned above is on another continent now and I'm not sure when (or if) I'll see her again. She's been my muse though; inspiring me to believe that I can in fact, find someone that will make we want again. It's been a while since I've really wanted and even in the absence of that which I want but don't have, I'm happy, grateful to have wanted again.

just a moment

I slipped my fingers inside the holes in the crocheted tights that wrapped the legs that were draped over my own, touched the soft skin that covered the knee that was bent over my thigh.

I love simple moments like those; one's that come easily, naturally, but leave an impression long after it's gone.

Kim Boekbinder

The video that I was a part of this weekend was for an artist called Kim Boekbinder, who I've have the pleasure of becoming friends with over the last week. She's currently self-producing her own first solo album after a successful run with her former band Vermillion Lies

She's a great artist and shares my love of New Orleans, so of course I want to see her take over the world. I'm a great admirer of people that pursue life with a passion so it stands to reason that I have a great deal of admiration for Kim Boekbinder.

The room was packed and there were people we knew all around us. The music was loud and we both held a drink in each hand, people feeding them to us despite the fact that we'd both clearly said we didn't really want one.

All I wanted to happen was for both of us to loose a drink, free a hand, so I could wrap hers in mine. We stood against the wall, both of us talking to other people and every time her flesh brushed mine, it was like the desert getting a little rain.