Tuesday, January 22, 2008


This is when I think of him:

When I brush my teeth
Eating an avocado
In the cities of New York, C_____, N______, Chicago, Louisville and Ann Arbor
In the state of Mississippi
At rest areas
In sex shops
While driving long distances
While shaving my ass
While brushing my hair
While toweling off after a shower
As I wake up
As I go to sleep


Looking across the table at Beautiful Girl and Zurich, her skin so smooth and soft, his eyes so blue, her laugh so lovely, his face so open and unguarded (rare). I sniff the beers they try, none of them suit me, Miss Half-OJ-Half-Ginger-Ale-Please. I will see him soon, outside of her company. I will see her soon, outside of his company. I will see later but still soon my best friend, a continent away. My best friend has also recently broken up, finished by her get-over-the-previous-bad-relationship-boy, finished the contents of her liquor cabinet and the contents of her medicine cabinet in one go, not enough to do the job. I call her, I tell her, wait for me. We’ll bring boltcutters and jump from Hornsey Lane Bridge together, the city spread out before us. I am only half joking, only half cheering her up. That’s the half that would never choose plummet-to-a-sharp-stop as the means. Nor guns, gas, water, automobile. Not sure enough, too messy, too protracted, can’t stand not being able to breathe. (Might as well live, right DP?)

I’ve never been drunk.

I’ve never been high.

What I am is addicted to drama. Addicted to mattering, meaning, having the cock that tells me so.

Maybe coke would be less draining. Probably more expensive. Maybe not.


I am in the company of others 24 hours a day, and have been since New Year’s. Down side: hard to carve out time to write, to connect with lovers, to think, to be all moody. Up side: hard to carve out time to be all moody. Hard to inconvenience others with feelings, tamp them down, bottle them up.

I am sharing a bed with Beautiful Girl – in the night, I lie with my head next to hers, smelling the scent of her face cream. I am too tired, too tiny, too alone to wrap my body around hers, throw my arm over her shoulders, place my hand on her belly. But even so, her smile is the first thing I see in the morning. I head for [the workplace] with a carload of people, we go inside, we work together in a way that makes me remember how I love my work. Power Girl is there beside me, and Beautiful Girl, and Secret Scientist and Hairline Boy, and all of us are focused, intent, something larger than us is happening, something larger than can happen alone.

We share dinner together, passing back and forth to the salad bar, we cluster by the restrooms chatting in little groups. Zurich is heading out to meet a friend in the city, he hugs me, he leans in and whispers, “I’m not shooting myself in the foot am I? I’m not missing out on you-me time?” No, I tell him, this time, no time alone. Next week? Midwestern City? We make tentative plans.

I am ridiculously pleased.


Cyrano Q said...

Now there's strange. I know that bridge well, used to travel along that road every day to school. It's known as the local suicide bridge, and you'll need more than boltcutters nowadays to make it to the edge. People still do, though, a couple of times a year. Some of them survive - the nearest ER (or A&E, in the local parlance) is walking distance away, although few actually walk.

What I am is addicted to drama. Addicted to mattering, meaning ...

Amen to that. I thinking of therapy, to be honest, before I do something really stupid.

Anonymous said...

Sounds like you are the winner, mor power to you!!!! I think you are exaagerating though, I suspect (and surely hope) there is no need to shave your ass!!

Anonymous said...

This is such a nice change from last fall. I'm happy to know things are better. Your gypsy life sounds fun too.


Anonymous said...

Hello Mandy - I've now read
and am caught up in 2008!
What a read you are!

Oh dear one, when I read
and got to 'shaving my ass' I thought, if you were
a friend in my life, I would just want to hug you
and listen.
Hope you find your gorgeous smile!

I'm wishing dopamine and serotonin wishes for you
in large doses.


Mandy said...

Cyrano Q - The bridge has an amazing view - my best friend lived nearby for awhile. Honestly, though, I would never go by jumping! I, too have been considering therapy again - I'm trying to decide whether to go back to the one I used to see who already knows the story, or to start over with someone new.

Southern Sage - not my whole ass, silly :) Just the little hairs that trail back from my nether regions. Nice to be smooth there.

Steve - I'm definitely mobile right now :) Have to see if we intersect!

Cathi - thank you for the good wishes. They are both needed and appreciated.