"... one man in his time plays many parts, his acts being seven ages." as you like it i, vii

Another year past. Last week I had yet another birthday. Amazing how those things keep coming.

Although I had kind of given up posting here, it's not so much that nothing was happening. In fact it was more that so much was happening that I couldn't really get a handle on things in such a way that I could write about any of it.

******

In some ways I know that I am pretty much the same person I was last year and the year before; I still have the same sense of humor, I know that I surely have the same flaws, and, I hope, the same good qualities that I've always had. I guess what I'm finding in myself that is new is a much greater sense of perspective. The older I get, the grayer everything gets. It was so easy as a younger woman to be confident of things in a black and white world, but the lines have gone all fuzzy now. It's not that I don't have opinions, but it's a lot easier now for me to hear the opinions of others. I think it gives me a better view on things in general, but overall I wouldn't say it's made life easier, particularly.

I think the thing that is frustrating to me about the ongoing birthday problem is the realization that I truly always will be a work in progress. There's never going to be a year where I say, this is it, let's stay right at this point and cruise from here on out -- no need to make any more changes. I guess I know, truthfully, that this would be a boring existence, but it would be nice for a birthday to come around and for me to say to myself, you know, this is where I thought I'd be right now. I suppose it's not out of the realm of possibility, but the thing is, my expectations of who I am and who I ought to be become altered based on the experiences I have. So even if I were to reach the point, say, ten years from now, that I currently think I ought to be at then, there's really a pretty good chance that by then, my expectation of what I ought to be at that point will have completely changed.

I suppose it's the way of things.

******

Things I think I've done a good job of improving on this year: Enjoying the moment. Acknowledging appreciation of others. Forthrightness. Self-care. Acknowledging what I know I can't do alone.

Things I think could probably still use major renovations: Trying to control situations beyond my control. Procrastination. Turning off a racing mind. Eating a good variety of food. Sitting still with my thoughts.

******

Fall is on the way now, and I'm glad. Fall has the best of everything: days where it's so nice you want to be outside and move around and absorb the sun and the crisp air and all that is around you, as well as days where you turn inward, cozy up alone or with loved ones, and take care of what's going on inside. It's a good time to look for perspective, to try and get right with things as much as you can before winter, when it's all about being turned inward.

And so, onward.

"a strange fellow here" pt. 2 troilus and cressida: iii, iii

On Friday V. asked me if I could take care of going down to the Apple store near us and picking up the new OS, Leopard, for our computers. No problem. It's a little bit of a big deal, I thought, so I'll get there a touch before it becomes available at six, like at 5:45.

So I arrive at 5:45 to find a line of people that is no joke like 200 people long. At first I thought it was only 50 people long until I looked a little more carefully to see that it had wound its way around a mall kiosk selling Dead Sea Salt beauty products (their employees' sales tactic seems to be to wait until a girl walks by and then timidly approach her, saying "Can I ask you a question?" I've never found out what the question they want to ask is because I usually say something like "oh, no, sorry, I'm in a big hurry," even if I'm walking at a snail's pace).

But I digress. So I join this line and stand there for a few minutes. The dude in front of me turns around and looks at me a couple times and gives me a little smile; I respond with a polite tight-lipped smile of my own. Finally, he addresses me.

"Here to buy the new OS?"

I look at him for a moment to see if he's for real. I am, after all, standing in a line fully 200 fricking people long, a line of people who are ostensibly all here for the same, single purpose of purchasing the new OS.

"Well, yeah. I mean, I'm standing in line," I say, finally.

He nods. Then a moment of silence, and then it suddenly strikes me to return the question. "Are you?"

"No," he says, matter-of-factly. "I'm gonna check it out, but I'm not going to buy it tonight."

I look at him for a moment in bewilderment.

"I'm just here for the experience," he explains.

Right, of course. The experience of standing in a line of 200 people for 45 minutes on a Friday night. What else is there to do?

"the play's the thing" hamlet: ii, ii

Here's a catalog of some of the interactions I've had in the last couple of days. They will appear, in an homage to my favorite person, V., in the form of short plays.

1. The Watchtower

Scene: The Kennedy Plaza outdoor bus terminal. Monday morning; commuters are starting to line up at their various boarding areas. A thirtyish woman dressed in chef's pants and a tshirt, Nicky, stands slightly apart from the other waiting people in her boarding area. She is on her cell phone to her mother, speaking quietly about something that seems important and emotional. Her words cannot be heard by those around her, but she is clearly on the phone.

An older woman, Serena, approaches. She is carrying leaflets and magazines.

SERENA (to Nicky): Would you like a copy of The Watchtower, dear?
NICKY (into her phone): Excuse me just a sec, Mom. (To Serena) I'm sorry, not now, I'm on the phone.

Nicky returns to her call. Serena's face, which has until now been a mask of pleasantness, twists into an ugly grimace.

SERENA (brandishing the magazine, agressively): Take it!!
NICKY (just as agressively): No, I don't want it!
SERENA (shaking the magazine at Nicky so that it hits her hand): TAKE IT!!
NICKY: NO! Not now! (moving away from Serena, who wanders off down the street, her face rearranged back to the pleasant expression) JESUS fucking CHRIST!! Fucking Jehovahs!!

BLACKOUT

2. Once You Pop ...

Scene: The bus into downtown Providence. Nicky, a thirtyish woman wearing chef's pants and a tshirt, sits along a rear bench seat. She has a few grocery bags with her; she's picked up a few things for supper after her long day at work, as well as a snack of potato chips.

The bus stops. A young man, Jeffrey, boards the bus and sits on the opposite side of the bench Nicky is on. He sprawls out and stretches his arm across the back of the seat; he is not, strictly speaking, encroaching on Nicky's personal space, but he's treading a fine line, considering he is a perfect stranger to her.

Nicky reaches into her shopping bag and pulls out her partially consumed potato chips, and pops a few into her mouth.

Jeffrey reaches over and taps Nicky on the shoulder; it's easy for him to do so since his hand is already up on her seat back.

JEFFREY (to Nicky): Yo, could I get some of those?
NICKY (taken aback): I-I'm sorry??
JEFFREY: Could I get some of those? (indicates the chips)
NICKY: Wwellll, there's not very much left .... (she trails off at this point, meaning to indicate that since there is not very much left, she doesn't intend to share any of it with seemingly well-nourished boys.)
JEFFREY: Oh, that's aiight; I'll just take the rest.
NICKY: (taken even more aback): I'm sorry??
JEFFREY: I'll just take the rest.
NICKY: (near spluttering in disbelief): Well, actually, no, I don't think you'll just take the rest because this is my snack and I'm hungry and I'm going to eat the rest!!

Mercifully, the bus pulls up to the stop at this point. The passengers all stand and begin to de-bus, Nicky among them, although she is still one stop away from her destination. She exits the bus, not looking behind her once.

BLACKOUT


3. Strangers in the Night

SCENE: The Mall. Friday night; the place is loaded with adolescents. They're loud, boistrous, obnoxious -- all the things that make a childless 30-year-old-woman sigh a breath of relief.

A thirtyish woman, Nicky, wearing a tank top and jeans, approaches the escalator. It can be admitted that she looks cute, but no cuter than usual. She just threw this outfit on quickly before leaving the house for a brief errand or two, which included the decidedly unglamorous tasks of buying running shorts and toilet paper.

As Nicky boards the escalator, a young man, Chris, probably no more than 20, boards behind her. They ride in silence for a moment.

CHRIS: (quietly) How YOU doin'?

He speaks so quietly, in fact, that Nicky assumes she is not the one being spoken to, and continues staring ahead.

CHRIS: (a little louder) I like your glasses, those are nice.

Nicky knows now that it is her he is speaking to, as she is wearing a pair of glasses that she regularly gets complimented on. However, she thinks it best not to encourage this young man, and continues to ignore him.

CHIRS: (definitely louder now) And your butt. I like that, too.

Enough is enough. Nicky turns to face Chris.

NICKY: (incredulously) Are you talking to ME??
CHIRS: (grinning sheepishly) Yeah!
NICKY: (even more incredulously) Do I KNOW you???
CHRIS: Yeah!
NICKY: No. You don't. You don't know me. That's not an appropriate way to speak to someone you don't know.
CHRIS: (backpedalling, in a slightly regretful tone) I'm sorry. I'm just trying to make friends.
NICKY: ...?....
CHRIS: ......
NICKY: Yeah, I don't think that's what you're trying to do.

Nicky turns back around and walks the rest of the way down the escalator, shaking her head in extreme disbelief.

BLACKOUT

"this music mads me; let it sound no more" king richard ii: v, v

I'm back, baby, and better than ever! It's been a while but here I am! Moved in, almost settled, finished with school all the way until September ..... yeee haaaahhhhhhh!

I do love the Downcity lifestyle. Little old PVD is getting there, it really is. Saturday afternoon I found myself NOT to be the only person poking around on Westminister St.; there was quite a nice little flow of people to and fro. The Providence Gay Pride Parade zoomed right in front of our apartment and lots of good times were had. I'm a nice little Saturday morning walk away from Nick's on Broadway.

Last evening I found myself back on the East Side for a little while; I was laying out on the Brown Green, reading, when I heard some music coming from down the street. I walked over to investigate and found these guys warming up. Then they formed up and headed over to what looked like an opening barbeque party for the Brown summer high school program. They were fun and pretty good too.

When I got home, I was lying asleep in bed - blissfully asleep, I think it should be noted - when I suddenly heard on the street below me the same now familiar semi-cacophonous sounds of a brass band, penetrating right through my closed window. I glanced bleary-eyed at the clock; the numbers 1:30 swam before my eyes.

I was ... unthrilled, to say the least.

Always something unexpected in the City-State.

"cooling of the air with sighs" the tempest: i, ii

I feel like such a hypocrite right now.

I don't own a TV. I don't own a car. Blah blah blah, I eat organic and local. Pftthb. The fact is, I am sitting in my apartment, positively basking in the Central Air. It's a hot and hazy and humid day out there. And I'm not suffering. I'm sitting back, sipping on a nice cold Sanbitter, listening to the Pet Shop Boys and getting ready to prep for class tomorrow, and dammit, I'm enjoying the temperate room.

So freaking sue me.

"...POP..."! hamlet: v, ii

Finally, the flowers and leaves are starting to POP!!

Spring. I have a love-hate relationship with it. Because much of the time, if I really think about it, Spring is fairly shitty: rainy, raw, muddy. But days like today, the day the flowers POP, the day the air feels like a soothing bath, the day the sunshine is finally warm, the first day you smell that hot sidewalk smell mingled with that muddy earth smell and the smell of every plant and tree waking up and waving in the breeze .... it's just so fucking gorgeous.

Anyway, that day is today, and the fact is, nothing on a day like today can make me feel sad. Even though I was dealt a minor disappointment during the day today, my attitude was magically transformed from the usual "why me?" to the much more desireable "que sera, sera!"

I feel like I can handle anything on a day like today.

"though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe" king richard ii: ii, i

I wanted her to pull it together. Come to a realization, you know? Start taking better care of herself, now that she was a mom again, after losing her son. I thought it could happen; she could be the poster girl for Turning Things Around. She was out there, kind of a dumbass, trying to be the thing that she thought people wanted, pumping herself full of unhealthy chemicals, making poor decisions. But she was 39, it wasn't too late for her to have an epiphany about the direction her life was heading; so I believed. Guess I was wrong.

Not to say I admired her or necessarily felt sorry for her. But times like these, when I reflect on the life someone in the public eye who makes poor choices, like a model or an astronaut, I'm reminded of how we're all just doing the best we can. I make poor choices all the time - maybe not as spectacularly, maybe not on camera or with the end result of a restraining order, but I do. It's a struggle, making sound decisions, sometimes; we're such a muddled species. We know right from wrong but often Right doesn't "feel" right. Or it doesn't feel good, at any rate. Strange animals.

Anna Nicole: no doubt even in your death we haven't heard the last of you.

"accept distracted thanks" troilus and cressida: v, ii

It's been an age since I last wrote; it's unacceptable, but in my defense this is one of my busiest times, between work and the trimester at school ending. However. I'm here now, and that's got to count for something.

I try to keep a healthy dose of perspective in my life (I really do), but I usually fail miserably. This time of year is a good time for me to take a few minutes to think about how, in the grand scheme of things, I'm pretty lucky. I won't make a "thanks list" here because my reasons are too personal, and frankly, too hokey, for public viewing, but for the most part it's all the stuff most people are thankful for. Although I'm not what anyone who owns a dictionary would call "religious," I do find that a sort of cosmic thankfulness does me some good when I get to the end of the day.

This year my feelings are a little ... I don't know .... I guess you would say unsettled, because a strange and horrible event happened earlier this week. A person I know, a guy I worked with, a guy I saw last Wednesday, was killed in his apartment on Friday night. The police are investigating it as a homicide; apparently he was stabbed in his own home. This wasn't a guy I knew really well; I happened to know his name because I heard him addressed, and I wouldn't be surprised if he did not know mine .... but it was a guy I saw a few times a week, with whom I always exchanged smiles and a pleasant hello. I won't pretend that I'm emotionally overwrought by this; it would be a lie to say my reaction was emotional when I got the news -- our relationship was very basic and no more than acquaintenceship. But I was disturbed, and, in a distanced way, saddened when I heard the news yesterday morning.

I didn't think about it much yesterday because there was a lot going on around me and in my own work that I needed to focus on, but this afternoon, I heard the managers discussing how his shifts were being covered. One of the managers was the guy who brought him into the job, his friend for the last few years, and it was clear that it was a difficult discussion for him to be having. I started thinking about this guy's family and what this Thanksgiving will be like for them, the seat that their 26-year-old son should have filled sitting empty.

It feels weird and selfish to use someone else's grave misfortune as a lens for my own life, but such is human nature, and I do find this horrible event making me more quick to forgive in my mind, both others and myself; more likely to appreciate small gestures; quicker with a smile for someone having a bad day. For me, the hereafter (if there is one) being uncertain, it seems crazy to put off being nice or taking pleasure in things. Life goes on, yes, work must be done, things will piss me off (this is me we're talking about here) -- but given that anybody, including me, could unwittingly make a fatal choice or fall into a fatal situation beyond one's control, at any time ... well, it's a cliche, but life's too short not to enjoy it. And I do, I feel thankful for the things that I have in my life, and the time that's been alotted to me so far, and the people in my life. I just have to take a few minutes and remember that thankfulness.