Binary Orbit

I feel good today--no, GREAT today. I mostly attribute this to the rearranging of furniture, which is taking place in my bedroom at a glacial pace, but is allowing me to feel rather accomplished when I complete small steps of the project like, say, filing things I should have filed months ago, or putting away laundry or moving a few items from one end of the room to the other.

The next greatest factor in my improved state of being is the microvacation that marked the end of working on Long Movie Job, but with the promise of Quick Unit Shoot around the corner. After a nice weekend hanging out with Cheshire Cat and his friends, spending a little time with Thinky Face and revisiting my roommates I spent a couple days upstate with Helicopter and then a day at home to dick around and do nothing. Now that I'm all rested and recharged I feel like a million bucks! I'm ready to take on the world...or at least my new job, which starts tomorrow and (bonus) pays a living wage.

While upstate, Helicopter's fiancé and his father and brother were re-siding her cute little suburban home, and they spent a lot of talk time telling me about all the other "improvements" they plan on making to their house; stuff like moving walls and additions and roofing and renovating the bathroom. Hardly just cosmetic repairs. The sight of the dumpster in the front yard and the good-natured but high-volume din of power tools was enough to make me never want to buy a home again. I can't wait to get rid of the one I have.

As part of the overhaul the front door had been replaced, but without a latch so the fellas were pretty much land-locked at the house. I quickly noticed Helicopter's role took on the very traditional female role of gatherer/chef, and we were often sent on errands to pick up things like fried chicken (lunch), or plastic bottles of sugary lemonade beverages, which seems to be what people drink instead of water in that part of the country.

Admittedly I'm no fried chicken expert or even enthusiast, but after standing in the chicken shack for five minutes I could feel the grease seeping into my pores and knew it would be a cold day in hell before I ate anything from that place. When we returned to the house I said I wasn't hungry, I'd only eaten breakfast a few hours before (which was true), so I opted for a midday run instead. Four miles of gorgeous mountain views beats a bucket of fat-dipped chicken and mayonnaise-drenched cabbage any day, as far as I'm concerned.

On my return I spent some one-on-one time with Heli, basking in the sheer joy of being with my best friend after a long absence. Coupled with the relief of her returning safely from combat it caused a great wave of calm and comfort to pass over me. There she was, right in front of me, MY Helicopter. We've been apart too much over the last few years and now, finally, she's just a short train ride away and she's gonna stick around for a while.

It's amazing how the lives of two people will converge and then suddenly shoot away from each other in opposite directions. When she left for basic training my brain went on leave while I developed and honed my drug habit. When I finally came back to reality we reconvened with no love lost, all forgiven. Then I fell in love, dropped out of school and moved across the country. She lived the college life, went on spring break in Jamaica, and graduated with honors as a lieutenant in the US Army. She moved to L.A. on her own while I was getting engaged in Louisiana. While I was grounding myself in France and realizing my need for independence she was learning to fly in Alabama and falling for a fellow pilot. I realized domestic life wasn't for me and took off my ring within weeks of her committing for the first time in her life. For a brief hiccup she was there to catch me when I fell, terrified and excited, into the waiting hum of New York, and then she was gone to war, her man at her side, living in what she calls a dreamlike state while I was flung facefirst into the harsh reality of the City.

Now that she's back I wonder if our lives will ever be in the same place at the same time again. She's so happy with her little house and her big man with red state politics and her spoiled dog and brand-new cars and pickup truck and meat and potatoes diet and market-stimulating consumerism and TiVo and quaint little rural town. Just a few days with it all and I'm reminded that it's just not for me, that I don't even want to want it. The trees are nice.

At first glance, nobody would realize this is the same woman I once kissed passionately in a baby pool before an audience of hundreds, slathered head to toe with the chocolate pudding in which, moments before, we had wrestled one-another to a draw. But maybe they wouldn't recognize me either. We've both come a long way.

kyle the girl
(via BlogPress)

The Port O' Call came to Brooklyn!

My friends Alabama Slamma and Uptown Girl came to visit New York this weekend to see Radiohead at the All Points West festival and to take in the sights a bit. It was so good to have a little slice of my old NOLA scene come see me here in the King of Boroughs.

Uptown Girl and I share a best friend in New Orleans and have always gotten along almost better than we do with her, since of takes a particular kind of person to put up with her idiosynchrasies. Shortly before I left my old life behind I spent two magical days on the beach in Gulf Shores, Alabama with said best friend and the two dear ones who are now staying a stone's throw away in Queens.

Short as it was, that vacation was the most fun I had had in years. The three of them had gone on a whim and invited me, but I declined in deference to my work ethic. The same Sunday night they left I had one of a series of massive fights with JH. I had to get the hell out of there, so I hopped in my car without telling him where I was going and drove until I got there, leaving a voice mail with my boss to say I was taking a personal day.

Four hours later I pulled my little Nissan into the parking lot of a shady little hotel across the street from the beach, my cheeks still stained from salty tears. I was welcomed by the girls with open arms and no questions asked. Uptown Girl poured some combination of liquor and juice into an impossibly tall plastic cup and we retired to the beach.

For the next day and a half we spoke almost exclusively in ridiculous Alabama Twang. We bitched about the men in our lives, played drinking games like it was going out of style and flirted with teenaged boys on the beach. We barely swam, much preferring the sun to the surf. Although I never really talked about it with the other girls, I decided then that it was over between me and JH. I realized that I would be far better off without him. I knew I had to follow my dream and come to New York.

Uptown doesn't know it (and may never) but it was her example of inependence and self assuredness that made me realize I could do it. And for her to be here now and see me thriving and happy.... Well I can't think of one person from my old life that I'd rather see!

The little picture is dark, but it's all I got, and I'm okay with that. The night was so dark and drizzly, it captures the mood pretty well.

HI! J/K. LMNOP!

LMNOP stopped in to NYC for a few days on her way to Amsterdam for a rendez-vous with an ex BF's BFf, who may or may not become her FWB. We had bunches of fun! Some of her other New Yorker friends met up with us; Adjunct went with us to the Top of the Rock, which was sadly not that impressive, since it had been raining all day. We amused
ourselves with the funky light show going on in one of the foyers (brought to you by some sponsors) though, and seeing the Empire State and Chrysler buildings shooting up through the fog was really cool. They reminded me of the funky quartz pillars embedded in the walls around the escalators.

The next night we met up on 7th Avenue and cruised around the West Village for a while before heading to Cowgirl for dinner. (LMNOP had requested a good salad, and their "all chopped up" is consistently hailed to me as one of the best in town.) A few watermelon martinis and other, tequilaful beverages later, we were giggling into the night, wandering around in circles looking for a good rocks margarita. We settled on Agave; a friend of a friend works there, and I suspected they would do well by us. They most certainly did for L-, but as per usual, a bottle of rum caught my eye and I ordered a mojito instead.

We chatted and slurped up our lime-y drinks, talking about how well I fit in New York and how L- wants so badly to follow her dreams. I tried to convince her to just not come back from her England/Amsterdam trip.

Speaking of Amsterdam, L- admitted that she was a bit nervous about smoking the dope for the first time. She's 26, and never puffed on a joint in her life! I told her she'd be fine. "You've smoked a cigarette before, right?" She looked up at me like a deer in the headlights. Before I knew it, we were standing on the corner with a pack of Marlboro Lights, tearing through nearly an entire box of matches trying to get a light despite the summer breeze and our tipsy giggles. "This is gross!" she coughed. All I could do was laugh. "You're not doing it right! Actually, it's not good for you anyway. It's probably better if you don't do it right!"

I wasn't a very good teacher, but I was at least appreciative of her company. She's such a sweet, awesome gal and she's working as hard to figure out this life thing as I am--she's just really scared, the way I used to be. She's got it. She knows what she has to do, and she'll get there with the right nudge. At dinner I looked straight at her and said, "Tearing my life up by the roots and moving to New York was the greatest thing I have ever done to advance my personal happiness. I would love nothing more than to hear that you got on that plane, flew to England, and never came back." I know she'll be back in New Orleans in a couple of weeks and that's okay. These things take time.

Thanks so much for visiting, LMNOP! I had so much fun and I miss you already!