Feels like home to me.

Posted: 06/21/2014 in Becket, home, love
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Dear You,
I have so many things to say to you, and find myself completely tongue-tied.
Which I think may be an offensive term that we’re not supposed to use, because it refers to a physical deformity… but it’s so hard to keep track of all of those sorts of things. So maybe I’ll go with speechless.

Here’s what I mean when I say that being with you feels like coming home:

Imagine, if you will, that all of my life I’ve been on a journey.

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1/10/13

Posted: 01/10/2013 in Uncategorized
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A 9 year old just won a Critics’ Choice Award, on the day she also found out she was nominated for the Academy Award for Best Actress. I forgot to take my daily multi-vitamin today for the 47th day in a row, and had a brief moment of pure happiness in the shower before realizing that tomorrow is not Saturday.

Movie, sick edition pt. 3

Posted: 03/20/2010 in Entertainment
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This is the final entry in a three-part series of “thriller” movie reviews. Though let’s use the term “review” VERY loosely, shall we?

My head is floating on my shoulders like a bobble-head doll. This is unrelated to the third movie, Cape Fear (1991), but bears mentioning. Mostly because I have to wonder how much of my experience (or lack thereof) of these three movies has been influenced by my deathly black plague. I’d think that the fog in my brain, the sizeable delay in my response time, the general haze of oblivion would impact how well tension could work on me. Turns out there was still shock, it just sloshed over me rather than slapping me across the face.

Cape Fear had lots of slapping and sloshing – of me as well as of the poor set-upon characters within the movie. If you’ve seen this movie, you know it’s good and quite scary. If you haven’t seen this movie, you’ve heard that it’s good and quite scary. Let me sum up for you my review: It’s good and quite scary.

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s move on to something in the movie that was much more disturbing than <spoiler alert> burning flesh, gang-beatings, or that really freaky moment when the film flashed to “heat vision” black and white and back again to demonstrate that Nick Nolte just Figured It All Out.

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I’m still sick, and the movies kept sucking. Fear not… the third one took a decidedly better turn. But you have to get through #2 first.

Second up in my ATBSBFPM* Marathon: Consenting Adults (1992).

Kevin Spacey cannot not be creepy, sleazy, slimy, or cheesy, especially when dressed in a bright red blazer and tie, with matching Santa hat. Thank god my time in the suburbs never subjected me to the spontaneous (costumed!) group caroling in front of a massive Christmas tree in Kevin’s  yard. The other Kevin, Klein, is great as usual (I’m a fan), but I just can’t take this movie seriously as a “thriller” after that scene.

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Movies, sick day edition

Posted: 03/18/2010 in Entertainment, life
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As an alternative to chicken noodle soup and orange juice, I’m watching a marathon of {truly horrendous} movies while passing in and out of a waking coma. Mucinex makes massive pills and, though I managed to choke one down earlier this morning, doesn’t seem to have much of an effect on me; I’m trying to encourage coughing, so I can clear the crap out of my chest, so I really don’t want to take anything that stops a cough; and I have no appetite, which is just disconcerting.

Since I’m in a state of misery and am being tortured while trapped indoors, I wanted to watch Funny Games.  Instead I wound up wandering through pages of “psychological thrillers” on the Netflix InstantWatch site. There were a lot of them… most of them rated one to two stars. Apparently a good thriller is harder to bring to screen than one thinks. Read the rest of this entry »

There art thou… happy?

Posted: 03/03/2010 in life, nyc

What, rouse thee, man! thy Juliet is alive,
For whose dear sake thou wast but lately dead;
There art thou happy: Tybalt would kill thee,
But thou slew’st Tybalt; there are thou happy too:
The law that threaten’d death becomes thy friend
And turns it to exile; there art thou happy:
A pack of blessings lights up upon thy back;
Happiness courts thee in her best array;
But, like a misbehaved and sullen wench,
Thou pout’st upon thy fortune and thy love:
Take heed, take heed, for such die miserable.

~Romeo and Juliet, Act 3 scene 3

I’m ashamed to admit that I was ashamed. I should be happy, and I am, but I’m not proud. And there’s no reason not to be… Well, I suppose there is.

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Ash Wednesday

Posted: 02/18/2010 in holiday
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I suppose it might look a little odd to the people walking past. A dyke sitting at the bar, drinking a beer, with ashes on her forehead. This one looks surprised; that one looks scandalized. I’m not hypocritical, I want to tell them. I am a sinner, I recognize that. Isn’t that what this day is about?

Do you even know what this day is about?

Sitting here yesterday, thirty minutes ago even, you would not have batted an eye. Not unless you saw the cross tattooed on my forearm – “who is it for?” the artist asked. “It’s for me.” – and the schism of a Christian with a tattoo, a geek dyke, an out homo for Jesus, struck you. And if it did, then look around. See me and Julio down by the schoolyard; everyone sings along. We’re in Union Square, freak central #3, in New York City, and we hum Paul Simon while the game’s on mute and you pour me another one. Read the rest of this entry »

I’m in a rut.

It’s funny, I watched the Olympic Snowboard Cross last night and watched something as seemingly insignificant as a rut take down multiple athletes. Time and again they would lose control of their edge as it caught in a rut – created by repeatedly plowing through the slush and ice and heavy, wet, snow that then froze again.

Seriously. Could we get any more poignantly metaphorical about my life right now?

I refuse to give up, but that’s mostly stubborn attitude more than tenacity. I keep saying “today’s the day”, but it’s hard when the days roll by without impact and without being impacted upon. I need a cup of coffee. I need a cigarette. I need to go walk for two miles to remind myself that I can walk for two miles. Read the rest of this entry »

It’s Halloween tomorrow, the obligatory spate of scary movies are playing over and over, and I have a few questions.

  1. Why park the car so very far away from the body laying in the road when getting out to check on what’s going on?
  2. Why not call ahead to tell the girl you’re coming? You know you’re all being stalked by a creepy psycho-killer, now is not the time for surprises.
  3. What minority in his/her right mind would EVER hang out with a white chick who’s being stalked by a creepy psycho-killer? Has no one ever seen a scary movie before? You’re not gonna be around for the final credits.
    NOTE: This might not apply if you’re old and prone to sitting in rooms filled with candles while chanting “Pain of the past, fear of the future, blood of the young” and doing some sort of voodoo ritual. In that case, go for it old man. Do whatever you want to do. Read the rest of this entry »

New York, NY

Posted: 09/16/2008 in life, nyc
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God, I love New York.

I must’ve walked five miles in 24 hours… 4.9 more miles than I walk in a week up here.

I love the way the pedestrian walkway that skirts a construction site is ten degrees cooler than the rest of the street.

I love walking up Park, past the giant glass banking buildings, at 3am on Sunday morning… seeing drunk party people and joggers.

I love that people look but don’t stare, and that art is lauded.

I love jumping up with a start, brushing the roach off the wall, then sitting to finish our sushi lunch.

Who am I kidding? I’ll never not be a New Yorker.