Tuesday, January 30, 2007

FYI the ticket didn't fall. So much to tell. Old faces, old feeling, fresh chances, new memories and a couple things that always find a way to just slip past words. So dead tired. I'll be with you soon.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

She reminds me over and over that all of this is unfamiliar territory. That nothing makes sense at all. But the way she leaves tells a whole separate story. A subtle goodbye, a quick turn and a flawless exit. No final glance. No smile over the shoulder. Not even a flinch. Like a pro. Doing the job and walking away. Makes my stomach hurt every time.

It happened again. I disappeared because I thought maybe, just maybe if I stayed stayed away, kept my head down, kept my mouth shut, all of it would just come into focus. It looks so good on paper that maybe I was just creating all the problems by kicking it around over and over again. This time was it. A new life and it would just look good, it would feel good. It would feel right. Give in to the numbness. It could work. Oh god please work.

If you could god, would you just send me a sign. I'll tell you what. The ticket is on the freezer door under a magnet. It's the magnet about the heart attack warning sings (see photo). And just in case you miss that, the ticket says NYC departing at 6:30 a.m. Saturday. So if you could please just make the magnet stop working for a split second. That would be enough for the ticket to fall to the floor wouldn't it? And if it's not too much to ask would you have my dog come by and eat it. Well, on second thought, the dog's gone a little incontinent so maybe just let it slip all the way under the fridge to the coils in the back where it could just kind of melt. Those tickets are wax-coated right? Is that too much to ask? Actually, maybe you could just have the dog do his business on it? I mean, he's having trouble already so it should be easy to do.

Unless by some freak accident the magnet turns off but turns on again and re-attaches to the fridge just lower down with the ticket still under it. I guess that would mean that the dog just lets stuff fly right there in the kitchen on top of nothing.

OK, new plan. If the ticket is down below the handle and the dog manages to poop in the 4ft x 4ft landing zone that we can assume the ticket would most likely end up in then I will take it as a sign to stay right here and keep my head down and shut up.




P.S. Sorry for stealing the mormon back from you. My bad. My bad.


Tuesday, January 02, 2007

Something magical happened to end 2006. It should have been a rough time for a kid with bad circulation and long fingers. The sun turned in early for the year, leaving us alone to battle the cold and dig our way out of the snow that fell once and then fell again. All we could do was brave the icy streets to lay under blankets and watch familiar movies. 2006 left me with so few tangible things. The strange tingle of old endings that can't help but be followed by the familiarity of new beginnings. If the snow seemed like overkill, it was. but the beauty wasn't in the white. It was the tracks we managed to leave.

All I'm really trying to say is it's funny how people and places can skate into your life and slide back out again without leaving much behind. Not a sock or a photo or a gift or a hair tie. As the curtain started to come down on 2006 and everything looked to be exactly where I had left it years before. It was all the same. Or nearly the same, save the footprints in the snow. the tracks running right up to my front door, nit my life, around my head and down to my heart.

And as if that weren't enough, I was standing outside shoveling snow and my hands were warm. My hands are never warm. If this is any sign of things to come we all have plenty to look forward to.

A New Draft.
A New Direction.
A New Warmth