may 3 Stroke 9 on radio roulette today - the black backpack song, and Letters. More music all day by singers in the street and subway.
Time before work for juice and a cup of coffee on Boylston St. The little McSweeney's pamphlets are good for cafe reading. A nice one today - A Chance Meeting by Rachel Cohen.
The Hummer I often see is parked across the street today. All that armor, and all those rigid boundaries. Keeps you safe but makes your world enclosed.
Better to face the world with just your skin. You risk it getting bruised in some chance meetings. But in some yours will blend sweetly into theirs.
may 6
A typical New England college town - nice to visit, quiet and pretty. A few hours north of Boston and a little colder, leaves and flowers just forming. We spend most of the day walking around with people we met up with here.
By afternoon everyone is glad to move into a student bar for something to drink and congenial silence. Everyone across the table from me is looking silently upward. It looks so funny, but I figure out there's a muted tv behind me above the bar. After a bit I realize I'm staring too, my eyes trained on the people playing pool across the room.
The students here have exams for the next two weeks, and it's been easy all day to sense the tension in the air. The people across the room are smiling and laughing, though. They seem glad to be thinking about something else and having a good time. I can sense their lowering stress levels from here, and can't help but feel happy for that.
It starts to feel rude to stare,so I move my eyes to the corner of the room and make do with my own thoughts for a while. I like the deeper fuller life that comes from being able to live with some complexity. Most things that seem like contradictions aren't.
I come out of my daydreaming to notice we're looking at our watches at the same time with the same feeling. It's been a good day, but it's time to go home.
may 9
Worried that it couldn't breathe, plucked out of time. It seems too strong for that and now I'm not afraid. It's finding how to live in current protoplasm.
Entered this place borderless and trusting -- Reached out and found arms reaching back for mine.
may 12
Our favorite pub at Porter Square is back to normal tonight. A table by the wall, music that feels right, talk that feels good. A problem I couldn't help him with has been solved. That makes me happy.
Last week things were different somehow - the mix of things, music, people was off. And just as we were eating a pipe from a dishwasher or something broke in the ceiling, pouring on the table next to us and splashing me a little. It's funny how your brain works in these situations. I kind of thought I hadn't expected it to rain.
may 15
It's Sunday evening and I really want an iced mocha. There's a nice Starbucks on the way home, so I usually stop there. I like the tiny tins of mints they have, but all they have tonight are the cinnamon ones. Who eats those anyway?
I sit awhile and practice my Palm graffiti but I'm kind of distracted. Can't help contemplating possible upcoming travel and geographic changes and wondering how they might work out. I feel carried along and aware at the same time of something that seems to be happening by design. Strange to be both in the scenario and watching it. I always like to see what happens next.
When I was working in crisis intervention, crisis included positive things too - just big change. I think I might be ready for some change though. Anything can happen.
may 16
I'm not too sure what to do about people in my life who aren't on the web and might not want to be. I notice some people use first initials, or maybe pseudonyms. I think for a while I will just continue to be vague about it. It seems like the best I can come up with for now.
I'm distracted today by a feeling I can't shake. A miscommunication, I'm afraid. It makes me go back to the REM line - oh no, I've said too much, I haven't said enough.
I think I conveyed some unwanted expectations or pressure, things I didn't mean to communicate or suggest. I'm not sure either how to clarify what I meant, or find out what kind of difficulty I might have caused.
I feel some comfort from the reservoir of trust, the mutual knowledge that nothing difficult, confusing or hurtful to anyone is ever intended.
may 17
Now that it's summer, trains are fuller with tourists joining commuters. A petite girl sits next to me. Across the aisle a girl with long brown hair looks bored. The guy next to her has obviously just rolled out of bed. He carries a bag of donuts and a cup of coffee and has sleep written all over him.
At the next stop a couple comes in and stands in the aisle between us. They seem very much in love - smiling,laughing, whispering, her face resting in his neck. She grips the pole beside her to avoid stumbling when the train lurches. He holds onto her waist, their bodies close together.
They seem happy and it's nice to see. No more sleep and boredom across the aisle. My own thoughts no longer on the hassle of a bank merger. They're happy,we're happy. Love is like that - affecting the people in it the most, but spreading to touch everyone around it.
Just right timing of trains means a longer time in the cafe this morning. Grabbed the Talk that came in yesterday's mail before leaving home. A sense of satisfaction on seeing the cover - an excerpt from Martin Amis' memoir, and an article on Prince William. I got into this Royals-watching with Princess Di. It would be a hard habit to break now.
may 18
Welcome new readers :)
When I wore hard lenses, I used to dream sometimes about giant lenses that seemed impossible to put on my eye. Someone told me once they dreamed of having to put dinner plates in their eyes after starting with contacts.Has anyone else had that kind of dream?
These soft lenses look a little like those giant lenses to me. They're a bit different from the hard ones, but bring back that same feeling of how much clearer things are through direct contact than through bordered glass. Of course, things would be invisible otherwise, so I'm grateful for any optics at all.
The Hummer was parked on Boylston St. again yesterday, looking all smug and unbruised in its protective armor. No, still better to face the world unarmed, take my chances with just my skin. It couldn't hurt to be a little more careful with the sunscreen though.
may 22
may 22
An evening in the city at a place I've wanted to try for a while, not too far from the theater district and specializing in desserts.
A nice ambiance, just-right lighting and comfortable banquette. Music is low-key, fifties songs like Teach Me Tonight, full of innuendo and cloaked meaning.
The music makes my mind wander to Freud a bit. I suppose given his beliefs and writing people made a game out of trying to uncover hidden meaning around him. He had a pretty good line about that one time, even given that much of life probably is hidden meaning - "Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar."
may 24
may 24
Back working on the artists' project, and a little on the poverty project. I love being here - like stepping into another world where everyone is sweet and friendly. Maybe the nature of the work affects people that way, or maybe nice people tend to hire nice people.
I searched a long time before I found this place, but it was exactly what I was looking for. I'm lucky that way.
may 26
may 26
An early start to the long Memorial Day weekend, bookend to summer with Labor Day in September. Strong winds at Logan last night meant long flight delays - too late for dinner even by our standards. So back to Porter Square tonight. As late as it got last night, though, roads were still full of cars trying to beat daytime traffic to the Cape.
Always a huge list of things to accomplish on a long weekend, combined with a temptation to just relax and do nothing. We get a pretty good start today, a shopping trip to the mega stores. It's a beautiful day today and kind of hard to concentrate on work anyway.
Tomorrow it's supposed to rain, in true if-you-don't-like-the-weather-wait- five-minutes Boston fashion. But at least that ought to make it easier to get a few things done before the weekend slips away.
may 27
may 27
The Boston Globe could have been kinder to Kelsey Grammer and Macbeth, previewing here before moving to New York. Not really panning it, but suggesting too many hints of Frasier were visible in Macbeth - "Difficult Transition From Crane To Thane."
It is kind of hard, when he's onstage, not to imagine walking out the front of the theater, across the Common and Public Garden to Beacon St., down the familiar stairs, and into the welcoming warmth of Cheers.
The little boy in front of me has made a valiant effort, but the theme of sleep that runs through Macbeth runs through him as well, and finally he gives in.
may 30
may 30
I rely on you for the same things I always have. You rely on me for the same things too. But it never was like this before. I just can't get used to it.
may 31
may 31
A different feel to the train today - full of high school students on a field trip. Probably each of them full of angst and intense emotion, but in a group and at this hour they just look kind of tired and goofy.
In a chain reaction started by the students, the chaperone across the aisle yawns, and triggers that response in me. A few moments of reflexive yawns back and forth. Oddly intimate, having my reactions respond to his like this.
Breakfast in the same cafe. A little cool this final day of May. The coffee in the cardboard cup between my hands both warms me up and wakes me up. I'm glad to have brought a sweater in my bag.
I hear German, French and Japanese, and look up from writing in my Palm to see a Mom and Dad and teenage girl arguing about the map. They ask how to find the Swan Boats. Outside the amphibious Duck Tour boat/bus goes by, kids leaning off the edges quacking. Shorts and cameras and maps of Boston. It's nice to see them back again.
