feelings on the radio, scrolling songs to find the one that has your heart ripped open and raw.
before, there were only so many stations. you had to turn the speakers off when your car ran out of signals, but now, you never have to stop searching for a space to sit in. at least, not until the fatigue hits you.
the blues, and upbeat, syncopated piano because you need that synth waver to break up the emotion, because you are not a teenage girl and her pillows in the afternoon, but a man on a mission, and a broken heart knows mostly only its own misfortune.
the fear of too many pills, but it's not today, even though you already take one for your headaches, and vitamins for health, and whiskey, because whiskey is the solution for all the little things.
--
work is not really the place for friends. i don't think new orleans is either, but i don't think not having friends is the problem, so much as the need for new conversations.
5.16.2018
5.03.2018
4.09.2018
went to my best friend's 30th birthday yesterday. took a long train ride out to long island, to this gorgeous harbor restaurant.
live jazz and expensive lights in the air, we were there, loved ones amassing one by one, close friends and family. we came together for her birthdays from college days through the twenty-somethings, then for the bridal festivities a few years ago, and then for every subsequent birthday and celebration.
she arrived, as lovely as ever, with her baby and her husband, and i was struck by how little she changed, but also how much her life changed, all in good ways.
my brother became a father just a few months before my best friend became a mother; their babies are only two months apart, and it's so strange to me, that these people i know and love, are now taking care of these little beings, who look like tiny extensions of the people i love. of course, they do have their own personalities.
lina's baby is a joy. pictures on the internet are one thing, but in real life, you realize how much the child laughs even though she's only 4 months old and only just learned to hold her own head up. she has expressive eyes, curiosity, and a joyful personality. she watches all the strangers and finds them novel and pretty. she smiles a lot and tries to eat their fingers.
lina and her husband sit with us at the friends table, and we all banter and brunch and drink, but mostly we watch our favorite people be parents and partners.
the baby is hungry, so lina gets up, but we all insist that her baby not eat in the bathroom, but really, also because my best friend should not have to feed her baby in isolation, away from all of us, in a lonely bathroom, however nice it is. she covers up with a light blanket with her husband's help, and feeds her baby with some slight embarrassment because she's never done this before with an audience, so her husband buries her in more baby blankets, like an old babushka.
we all laugh and take pictures. her husband gives a touching speech about her while she is mid-feeding their child, and she roasts him in interjections, and we all laugh and toast because they are ridiculous, and because they have a happy family, but also because all of us in this room, are their family.
we all have a lovely afternoon and wander around and take pictures, and give so much attention to the baby, and talk to people we like and have known for a very long time, and we don't talk about the things that don't matter (the things that you save for strangers when you have to explain who you are and make a good impression), because these people already like you and know who you are already.
when the party ends, i decline car rides from everyone, blaming it on carsickness, but really, because i wanted to take a train ride back alone. we all say goodbyes and everyone leaves, until it's just ella, lina & eddie, and us, their two best friends. we help them to their car and say goodbye.
eddie's best friend drives me to the train station and we talk a little, mostly about old hobbies, and how jobs consume us, and how lina and eddie were smart to get married when they did, so now they can have their family. we arrive at the train station, and i thank him for the ride, and leave, and wait for my train.
on the ride home, i go through all the pictures taken, and it surprises me a little how happy i am to see how happy and beautiful my best friend is, and how beautiful and happy her child is. i think that my best friend is a good mother, on top of all other things, and i think about how it was so obvious that she was always going to be a good mother. my phone battery dies, and i fall asleep.
i wake up when the train is finally back in the city, and make my way home.
i think about happiness, and how it is real, and how my best friend grew this life from what she had, and i think about how lucky i am to be part of her life, even though we don't see each other often.
i think about other things, like work, and failed relationships, and the pursuit of careers and dreams, but mostly, as i curl up in bed, i think about how success might not be everything after all.
i think about the things i love, and the things i like, and i think about how there's all this thinking to do now.
live jazz and expensive lights in the air, we were there, loved ones amassing one by one, close friends and family. we came together for her birthdays from college days through the twenty-somethings, then for the bridal festivities a few years ago, and then for every subsequent birthday and celebration.
she arrived, as lovely as ever, with her baby and her husband, and i was struck by how little she changed, but also how much her life changed, all in good ways.
my brother became a father just a few months before my best friend became a mother; their babies are only two months apart, and it's so strange to me, that these people i know and love, are now taking care of these little beings, who look like tiny extensions of the people i love. of course, they do have their own personalities.
lina's baby is a joy. pictures on the internet are one thing, but in real life, you realize how much the child laughs even though she's only 4 months old and only just learned to hold her own head up. she has expressive eyes, curiosity, and a joyful personality. she watches all the strangers and finds them novel and pretty. she smiles a lot and tries to eat their fingers.
lina and her husband sit with us at the friends table, and we all banter and brunch and drink, but mostly we watch our favorite people be parents and partners.
the baby is hungry, so lina gets up, but we all insist that her baby not eat in the bathroom, but really, also because my best friend should not have to feed her baby in isolation, away from all of us, in a lonely bathroom, however nice it is. she covers up with a light blanket with her husband's help, and feeds her baby with some slight embarrassment because she's never done this before with an audience, so her husband buries her in more baby blankets, like an old babushka.
we all laugh and take pictures. her husband gives a touching speech about her while she is mid-feeding their child, and she roasts him in interjections, and we all laugh and toast because they are ridiculous, and because they have a happy family, but also because all of us in this room, are their family.
we all have a lovely afternoon and wander around and take pictures, and give so much attention to the baby, and talk to people we like and have known for a very long time, and we don't talk about the things that don't matter (the things that you save for strangers when you have to explain who you are and make a good impression), because these people already like you and know who you are already.
when the party ends, i decline car rides from everyone, blaming it on carsickness, but really, because i wanted to take a train ride back alone. we all say goodbyes and everyone leaves, until it's just ella, lina & eddie, and us, their two best friends. we help them to their car and say goodbye.
eddie's best friend drives me to the train station and we talk a little, mostly about old hobbies, and how jobs consume us, and how lina and eddie were smart to get married when they did, so now they can have their family. we arrive at the train station, and i thank him for the ride, and leave, and wait for my train.
on the ride home, i go through all the pictures taken, and it surprises me a little how happy i am to see how happy and beautiful my best friend is, and how beautiful and happy her child is. i think that my best friend is a good mother, on top of all other things, and i think about how it was so obvious that she was always going to be a good mother. my phone battery dies, and i fall asleep.
i wake up when the train is finally back in the city, and make my way home.
i think about happiness, and how it is real, and how my best friend grew this life from what she had, and i think about how lucky i am to be part of her life, even though we don't see each other often.
i think about other things, like work, and failed relationships, and the pursuit of careers and dreams, but mostly, as i curl up in bed, i think about how success might not be everything after all.
i think about the things i love, and the things i like, and i think about how there's all this thinking to do now.
3.31.2018
being alone is playing spotify in your room on a friday night while rocking an ebbing fever and the single vodka-water in an aquamarine martini glass close to midnight, and your feelings are somewhere between fuzzy bluegrass breakup songs and rowdy gypsy jazz with a splash of punk.
5.25.2017
the guilt, but mostly the metabolization of the night keeps me awake. rain, and soft, wet air, patters on the windowsill & street accompany me.
i carve through the porky dead flesh of recent memory with a scalpel in my mind, looking for a granule of something; clasp a closed hand to my left breast, find a crumpled love note that i want to unfold and flatten on my chest, so i do.
---
over work drinks, i tell my colleagues that my best friend is getting married this weekend, and the cheeky one accuses me of being Julia Roberts in some film, secretly in love with my best friend, so i roll my eyes, because cheeky co-workers are like drunk people playing darts at a bar together, and you know how films like that go, if you keep watching.
i carve through the porky dead flesh of recent memory with a scalpel in my mind, looking for a granule of something; clasp a closed hand to my left breast, find a crumpled love note that i want to unfold and flatten on my chest, so i do.
---
over work drinks, i tell my colleagues that my best friend is getting married this weekend, and the cheeky one accuses me of being Julia Roberts in some film, secretly in love with my best friend, so i roll my eyes, because cheeky co-workers are like drunk people playing darts at a bar together, and you know how films like that go, if you keep watching.
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