Swallowing Blood

with a yawn and a sigh I slid into the chair
the clip from the bib got stuck in my hair
two nurses asked if I wanted to be numb
"for a cleaning?" I asked, well that sounds dumb
four rubber hands held open my lips
my shoulders straddled by unknown hips

metal chiseled bone
florescent lights shone
and I swallowed my own blood

I could have used some rum
as they stabbed at my gum
but instead I just swallowed some blood

rinse and spit
now lay back down
rinse and spit
now lay back down

tongue dry
I began to cry
as I swallowed my own blood

cheeks tensed up in fear
Feliz Navidad droned in my ear
while I swallowed my own blood

The Moth Ball

"We use deference to show moral superiority." Garrison Keillor said of Midwesterners this past Tuesday night. He wore red samba soccer shoes and a black tux to the Moth Ball, a black and white affair. He brushed past me a few times during the set up and I wanted to jump on his grandfatherly back for a piggy back ride so I could whisper in his ear how integral his maple syrup voice was to my childhood...but that would have been creepy. Garrison loves New York, and he loves to make comparisons between New Yorkers and Midwesterners, so I felt right at home standing in my schmancy raven black attire. The Moth is a non-profit storytelling organization that I've become smitten with in the past few months, and the motto is "You, a microphone, and a story." The story Slams are my favorite, where each storyteller has only 5 minutes to get their tale out to the greedy, judgmental audience. Garrison commented that this is how New Yorkers are: always in a hurry, with only five minutes to get out a story that would, in the Midwest, take at least an afternoon. At certain points in the night I would spy him at his table gazing off into the abyss, his round glasses perched and tilting to the left on his puff of gray hair. He was probably thinking of vast yellow prairies and strawberry lemonade...

Later, I worked the merchandise table and sold Moth t-shirts to the rich, champagne-breathy guests. I watched everyone dance and realized how incredibly similar all people are. Everyone gets this excited/surprised look on their faces when classic songs burst onto a dance floor, like "When Doves Cry" or "Beast of Burden." Everyone is slow to get out there at first, but then busts into the worm suddenly once they've warmed up. Every woman gets a happyjealous look in their eye when their significant other is dancing with a slightly younger, more agile gal, and all (or most) men have difficulty with rhythm. If I learned anything from Garrison and his Saturday night radio broadcasts, it's that we're all the same. We really are.

http://blogs.wsj.com/speakeasy/2009/11/18/jonathan-ames-garrison-keillor-and-anna-deveare-smith-headline-annual-moth-ball/

http://www3.timeoutny.com/newyork/tonyblog/2009/11/garrison-keillor-mines-his-recent-stroke-at-the-moth/

Google Voice

With Google Voice, I've recently acquired the ability to have voicemails transcribed into emails. This concept is amazing, and saves me time, as I'm generally on email moreso than on my phone. The little man inside my phone who does the transcribing, though, seems to be a bit drunk. If you have a moment, read these carefully. I promise, you will laugh. I would highlight my favorites, but I'm confident that you'll find your own.

1. You I just got the weirdest voice mail message. It's not your usual sarcastic voicemail message. Helmets, Christine planned home. Tag. You're it. Yeah, Hi, I hope everything is going well and I look forward to speaking to you. 7. Okay bye.

2. Hello Lisa, This is man, checking the status of your lovely wife. Help this transpose is you, you're liking and have a very lovely weekend. Act on you Monday. Bye bye.

3. Yeah alright hey to. Yeah, have, please, please, please. Hiya, yep it through hi to the pat Thursday to the so, Marcia. Ohh yeah it to you via have the birthday to yeah yeah. Hi I to the happy birthday to you to to 2. Please do so. It I can't wait to see how that gets transcribe. Hopefully it says Happy Birthday have like a million times your birthday. It's like 12 01 from your birthday. Hopefully i. When for the first message on your day. I think you know if you standing outside on the porch per month, dot, com looking out on the lake. Call me here in New Hampshire and hope that you have a wonderful day and I will celebrated and I miss you so maybe I'll talk to you when it's not. Yeah night okay. I love you. Talk to you soon in so whom she to you soon day.

4. [Note: This one is perfect, because Paul spoke like a robot.] Cool. Hello Lisa, This is Paul. I thought maybe I would catch you before you got to work but apparently not. I'm calling to say happy birthday and that you are an old lady. You're halfway through your twenties. That's really old. I will call you later. Goodbye.

5. Hello good move. I said the birthday. It's 1 o'clock. Give me a call back when you get this. I'm going to a movie at that you'd be there at 1:15 so hopefully I can talk to you before then. Give me a call back and you're able to 52 a call.

6. Hello Sarah. Alright, back, then up. Bye. And hey, I want you to go messages. Anyways, wanted to wish you A very happy birthday and I love you and miss you and I can't believe you're 20. I have it. Bro Hey Bill, Okay, I will talk to you later. Enjoy your day. Bye.

7. Yeah, Hi Lisa, It's wanted to say Happy Birthday. I hope you're having a good day and so hope you had a good Terry was Joanne clients are right, so if you already have it. If you're having a security yet, but have a wonderful day and hey birthday, big 25. Give me a call if you want wasn't sure. Talk to you soon, call me know if you can. Thanks. Love you bye.

8. Ready pretty fancy stop. I suppose that's what 25 year old, so it is get their voice google give me a proper calling with you're out celebrating. Happy Birthday to you later.

9. [Maggie speaks perfectly. Congrats!] Happy Birthday Lisa, It's, Maggie, I just wanted to check in and see how you're doing. Give me a call if you get a chance but if you're too busy I understand, and we'll catch up soon. Talk to you later. Love you bye.

10. Hey the rooty at. I was hoping to catch you to say Happy Birthday. I hope this gets Tim's dad hi, okay. Hey. Love you lots of birthday wishes, and I'll talk to you soon. Hi sweetie. Bye bye.

11. Hey Alice, Yes, but it's your birthday so I called to say hi, hi. Birthday. I hope you have saddest day. Yes, you've been feverishly personal at my house and I hope you get a chance to call me back and he said, I can't seeing you on a birthday song but if not, I hope use of your own the other side of us will you have any insight you are not an adult. Okay love you bye.

Ok, that's enough. Good day!

Christine

I hadn't even met her and I knew I was going to love her. Her name was Christine and that was all I needed. She came back to work after a yoga retreat in Mexico about a week after I started at Scholastic, her skin: bronze, her demeanor: zen, her mouth: the same as mom's. And so it began.

Christine has answered all of my questions since I've met her, whether she knows it or not. From the most inane work-related questions ("How do I tell the publisher where the files are on our ftp site?") to the deepest love-related questions ("How come my heart feels like it dropped on the ground in a bloody puddle, while in mid-air shattered into ten thousand pieces, and afterwards was eaten by a ravenous boy?") and then all the questions in between, the over-arching one being "How do I fall in love with New York?" How do I get involved with local-eating? Where is the best place for a cartwheel in Prospect Park? How do I hula-hoop? How do I roll a cigarette? Why is everything so heavy all of a sudden? Who should my gynecologist be? Who should my dentist be? Where do I find the best Thai food in Dumbo, in Cobble Hill, in Soho? What do I do about this new pain in my neck? Do the B and the D really go express after Broadway/Lafayette? Where did my sanity go when I fell into the well of corporate America? Is it okay to cry, at any time, anywhere? What is the best Radiohead album? Where should I stay if I go to Belgium?

What am I going to do without you?

Amidst answering all of these questions, Christine somehow came up with a few questions of her own for me. What is that "Marching Bands of Manhattan" song and who is it by and why haven't I heard of them before? What time do you want to eat lunch? Want to come over and eat food? Are you using condoms? Want to go to the beach? Where is the most peaceful, beautiful, incredible place to go in Thailand, and should I take a bus or a train? Will you help me celebrate? Will you help me move?

As I watched Christine prepare herself for a potentially endless journey to the Pacific, I could feel the pieces of me, the pieces of us, begin to tighten up. Christine taught me how to hug with my heart (leaning to the right, rather than to the left, like everyone does), to walk tall like someone is pulling my chest up with a string, to love fully and unconditionally, to cry, cry, cry. And cry I did, like a baby cries for her mother, as I walked away from Christine a few days ago.

The adventure that awaits you will take turns you can't even imagine. May you crash head-first into the beauty of it, swim deep into the blue of it, climb the rocky crags of it, make sweetsweet love to it, gulp down shot after tequila shot of it, and write me when you can.

Note to Self

Halloween, a natural night of contradictions, has always proven to be memorable.  Whether those memories are fuzzy or upside-down, queasy or mind-boggling, I generally look back on them with my hand over my eyes, my head shamefully shaking.  This year, I've decided I'm going to make Halloween resolutions for future Eves of Hallow.

1. If you are sans costume for a neighborhood costume parade, a good trick is to simply drip fake blood from your eyes, nose, and mouth.  Poof! You have become one scary mo-fo.

2. Matching family costumes are a must. Penguins, monkeys, animals in general...

3. When you see a famous actor on your street, try to think of something more clever than "are you an actor?  [yes] oh.... hi...."

4. If you are given the opportunity to take out two underage British boys to show them a good time in New York, do.

5. Read the newspaper.  A lot of costumes have to do with present day events, such as Falcon the balloon boy, which Lindsay taught me about yesterday.

6. No matter how much time you have to spend standing on a chair singing Journey, don't take your eyes off of your wallet.  Yeah.

7. Try to remember to remove all makeup before falling asleep, unless you want Santa's beard all over your pillows.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

To Pumpkins!

We always used to have music on, all day, all night, every car ride and every passing afternoon. That didn't change. But this time we had his mom's old Bob Dylan and Billie Holiday records and a record player.

We always ate cheaply, sitting on wooden floors or in plastic chairs on the side of a busy, dusty road. That didn't change. But this time we had creole seasoning, curry sauce, and a (semi)-fully equipped kitchen.

We would always read in a perfect side-by-side silence, jumping at an extraordinary line and spilling it verbally into one another's ear. That didn't change. But this time there was a football game on mute in the background, and the couch was squishier for the jumping.

We'd always make fun of each other's freckles, crazy hair, morning breath, belly buttons. That didn't change. But this time we were older, more tactful and less vicious.

We always played 500 and I would always win. That changed.

We always drank the best beer within reach, Stella, Singha, Antarctica, racing each other slowly until we were red in the cheeks and laughing. That didn't change. But this time there was Honey Weiss, and a fine Cabernet, and a pumpkin to carve.

We always knew we needed time apart. That didn't change. But this time the goodbye strangely felt like a long-winded hello, thrown off into the future, where we'd catch it and find each other again.

A Glimpse, via Email

After the fair, I hopped over to Belgium, and from there hopped over to Holland. The best way to describe them is to simply copy and paste a few emails I wrote while there, and upon my return.

Bridget!
Frankfurt reminds me of some sort of space/ futuristic city that hasn't even begun to exist yet. The city was so bombed up in WW2 that they literally had to rebuild it from the ground up. So everything is supermodern and very crisp and clean. The men are of strong stock and the women all look like school headmistresses. I have a big presentation tonight to all of our territories, and then wed-fri I'm in back to back meetings at the fair. I'm loving it. Books+foreigners+great food=happy me.

Miss Christine,
Renee picked me an apple from a tree in her beautiful backyard garden, and I took a big, juicy bite as she pointed me in the direction of the park here in Schilde. The leaves are a crisp yellow-orange and the white swans are showing off for one another on the winding pond. Peace. Blue sky. I can't begin to thank you for this paradise. Renee and I sat over tea and tarts yesterday, chatting about books and the changing seasons of life, I went for a run and napped in my overly-comfortable bed, and then Macko, Eleanora (21) and Mattias (22 I think), Renee and I tasted a variety of beers, munched on walnuts from the yard, and ate a dinner fit for royalty. The two youngens then took me out to a smoky bar in Antwerpen, where we drank Stella and I waxed poetic about New York, and you. Today we're off to a professional field hockey match, and tomorrow will tour the city. What an immensely beautiful family.

My dearest Robbi,
When the work was done, I wiped my hands of the ink from my scribbling pens, brushed off my cheeks of the crusty lipstick from all the triple-cheeked kisses, and boarded a train to Belgium. I stayed with some extended family of Christine's. Nothing could have compared to the love and loveliness that they possessed. Arguably a family of angels, showering me with light that danced through their gazebo'd windows during afternoon tea, with raspberry tarts, with a curled up kitten on the ottoman in my enormous bedroom, with the fresh scent of home, with juicy steak and glass after glass of beer to taste and turn away at my leisure. I took long runs through their canopied neighborhood, the yawning lawns bright with lazy flowers, the roofs thatched and the license plates shined with care. A smoky bar, a men's field hockey game, a load of laundry, and a scarved stroll through Antwerp later, I hopped onto a train to Den Haag in Holland. I've met James twice: once in Thailand for a dinner with his best friend David (whom you know... cough... from the Sun and Moon in Chachoengsao), and then in New York, when he and David came through on a convertible road trip in search of Avett Brother's concerts. James picked me up in a high-collared black jacket. We went to a shop and ate sandwiches with no top piece of bread, and he took out his mini-laptop and explained Google Wave to me. I don't remember what we laughed really hard at, but we laughed really hard, a lot. He walked me to where the prime minister of Holland lives, and took a video of me in a brick-laden square. I thought he was snapping photos and I screamed at him, covering my face with my long hair and flicking off the camera. We fought like brother and sister. We drank two beers each, on the top of a spiral staircase in a bar in the corner of a plaza, which played "Fix You" and also Frank Sinatra. It's not important what we talked about. He walked me back to the train station, where I bought a white orchid for my Belgian family. He stood outside the train's awaiting door, and gave me three long kisses on my leftrightleft cheek, his lips grazing the corners of mine. His whiskers left a lingering smell of yesterday's aftershave on my skin, and I sat on the train, my heart in my throat and my ears, and my lungs attempted to shut down, but I wouldn't let them.

Maren,
Hi!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I’m here, though my head is not… I’ll come by soon-I have a lil gifty for you.
Did you handle this Skeleton Creek issue already?
L