novembre ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- i wish we could just run into each other tuesday night and i was at the old apartment on fairmount, piling up the remainders and sweeping the floors. ran into valerie in the hallway, she locked herself out of her apartment again. i invited her over. five minutes later i heard a knock over the stereo (best brotherly moving advice ever: leave the stereo as the last thing you move so you can have it playing as you clean) and in walks valerie with a six pack of guiness, bottles clinking against her thigh. she had walked to the shady corner liquor store, the one i love but you have to keep your head high and not mind it when smelly men offer you stolen electronics for fifteen dollars. that store is just a block away. it is open until three am and they also sell a large assortment of cookies, canned goods and random beverages, like vitamin water. last time i was in there i noticed they even sold frozen steak. we settled on the floor of my empty living room. valerie felt the echo and blurted, "it smells clean in here" even though i hadn't touched the living room yet. i sat on my legs and she told me the story that broke her jaw. her jaw is wired shut for another ten days. she has lost ten pounds and an erstwhile lover. i shook my fist at him while she rambled, and then we talked about teaching, about bike racing (watch out for curbs, valerie will warn you) and about beauty. valerie is only one of the many neighbors i've finally gotten to know over the past few months; i'll run into someone interesting and they'll stop by. by the third or fourth time i realized this made me not want to move anymore, but i had to, in the name of money and many boxes already shifted to the new place. i wonder if i'll ever see them again. i wonder if my new neighbors will randomly bond with me. not sure if i want to bond with the spaced out burning man hippies, but i've already met several of them and they seem okay. the other afternoon i heard the noise band in the warehouse downstairs. a good start. valerie and i exchanged phone numbers, and now she's my myspace friend. i wonder how deep a friendship has to be for the flighty (for us) -- when you don't see someone constantly and are reminded of how great they are, when they are instantly part of your routine, will you make time for them? that reminds me, i have many friends i need to make time for, friends even out of the city's radar. several letters to write to people i have not seen in years, but always intend to. road trip. oh and how many frequent flier miles will i need to get a round trip ticket to new york? lau, eleanor, elissa, everybody: i miss you. 1:26 am - 06.05.05 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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