Sunday, May 28, 2006

desire

I'm afraid of leaving the theater. I remember sitting in a darkened theater years ago and experiencing an intense longing. The hush of the audience as the lights go down. The first splash of light on the screen. When I am away from it I miss it, but unknowingly. I am afraid to leave the theater because I will have to carry that longing around.

I experience the same feeling when I am on a Cape Cod ferry. A desire for a place that is impossible to satisfy. It will overtake my heart at surprising moments. When I see a certain shade of blue or catch a wiff of salt air. I've been wondering lately if I am gravitating towards the Cape. Am I being pulled towards the place I was born in some inescapable circle? Why am I also pulled towards a movie screen? People's inside wiring is such a mystery. Everyone's desire is triggered differently.

Saturday, May 27, 2006

uptown blues

My entire body is aching. My back is one big muscle spasm. The chiropractor told me not to lift anything heavy. Ha ha. Funny because she must not know about the 8 boxes of books sitting in my living room waiting to go to the post office.

My going away party is over with. It was fun with a bit of a 'this is your life' feel to it. Or as someone put it, it's like having your funeral while you are still alive. (And look, people DID show up - whew!) Things are shaping up and coming to nice little packaged endings. Seems that I can still be a belligerent drunk idiot in my car and my good friends still talk to me. Although I'm not taking those friends with me to Chicago. Probably new people won't be so forgiving. People said I seem happy. I think I seem happy. Someone asked me if I'm sad to leave. And I'm just not.

The Uptown however I will miss. It's a place you can always go and find someone you know. A place where more than once I've stayed until the lights came on and we all got kicked out. A place to sit on comfy sofas and have a surprisingly hearfelt conversation with someone, or an irrelevant name-dropping chat, or an analytical political debate. A place where silly things happen. And it turns out it is named after a Chicago neighborhood. Who knew.

Thursday, May 25, 2006

back in the bay

I am back in the bay to tie up some strings. I immediately felt constricted and stressed upon debarking the plane. It's amazing that I really am truly ready to leave.

I actually miss Chicago even though I just left this morning. I miss the oldness, and the brick, and the trees and the calmness I feel when I'm there. And I found this crazy apartment to live in. It's big and it is all mine.

I try to squeeze the new people I meet into the molds of old familiar people. For example Susie reminds me of a combination of friend x and friend y. And Rhonda is the spitting image of friend z. I think that might be my mind trying to make sense of all the newness.

This weekend I have a few days in the bay with old familiar friends. I need to fill up since these days need to carry me through a bunch of no-one-knows-me days. Which can be as frustrating as they are liberating. This weekend is also my last chance to bellyache about the bay area. Because once I am firmly planted in Chicago I will start bellyaching about that town.

Wednesday, May 17, 2006

big trees big city

Today the tall leafy trees were swaying wildly in the wind. The trees tower over everything. When riding the train I notice how the trees often dwarf the houses. Big trees is a nice feature for a city, it can take some of the coldness out of it. Everything is in motion and things are progressing. It is too late to stop it now (Not that I want to). I hear Hotel California in the subway every morning which gives an eerie sadness to the start of the day. There are some good street musicians here although their repertoire could be bigger. I overheard a phone conversation on the train as I was coming home from work tonight. The guy was mired in a mucky yucky life. Trying to renegotiate the rent at his apartment and simultaneously defending his depressed girlfriend. Damn, I have escaped my mucky yucky situations. Now things are new. But that can be hard too.

Tuesday, May 09, 2006

first times

Tomorrow I start my new job. Soon, I won't live in California anymore. Nobody knows me here, except for one very cute person. I will be meeting my co-workers for the first time. I have never been to the neighborhood where I will be working before. I haven't found a place to live yet.

Sunday, May 07, 2006

proof


This picture is proof that a wild parrot lives in my neighborhood. He nestles in the palm tree in front of my house. After months of hearing his lonely call and only catching glimpses of him from far away, TODAY he appears right in front of us, squaks and seems to pose for the camera. Is it a send off?

A parrot sighting helped me get through this trying day of Uhauls and dumping old sofas. We also had a Jim Jones Jr. sighting inside the Uhaul store. Then we passed a group of witches leaving the farmer's market. California is kooky, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I finished off my day with a screening of Bunuel's The Phantom of Liberty which is seriously absurd followed by some very hot food from S's kitchen.

I will miss my days at the theater. I can feel the audience in the theater when I am in the other room. It is a difficult sensation to describe; it's like they are sleeping. A big group of people sleeping together. They are all sitting in the dark experiencing their own separate filmic sensations. I feel protective of them as if they are helplessly suspended in vats. Film is so addictive. I need to continue feeding it.

Saturday, May 06, 2006

edge


In the past 24 hours I have been at a ridiculous film schmooze party, a box turtle refuge, and the edge of the pacific. My belongings are dwindling. I have shed pounds of material goods every day this week.

I have a chance to start over I think to myself as I stand in the middle of the ridiculous film party. When beginnings happen it seems that you can do everything over again and be a better person. I can make those changes I've always wanted to make. I can start doing yoga. Eat better. And be more patient. Of course the beginning will become a middle and then eventually another end. But still, at the beginning of the beginning there are all sorts of possibilities. And as I walk to the car with one of S's high heels on one foot and one of my leather boots on the other, I think I don't have to see any of these people for a very long time.

Thursday, May 04, 2006

separation anxiety


I feel a little bit lighter with each piece of furniture that disappears. Leaving is becoming more and more of a reality. It is funny how people say goodbye. Some people surprise me with niceness and others walk away as their cell phone rings. And I am left wondering why are you not devastated by my departure? My sentimentality factor is way out of hand as I get separation anxiety about people I barely know. On the upside, I am getting rid of a lot of stuff that I don't need. Including the huge down jacket I've kept only because I thought if I ever had to sleep on the streets it could save my life from the cold. It would be good for everyday wintertime use in Chicago except that it has 80s shoulder pads. Bad wintertime fashion is not the way to make friends in a new city. I shudder to think that my wardrobe will scream "I'm from California!"

Wednesday, May 03, 2006

birthday cake buildings

I may have ridden the 22 Filmore for the last time as a Bay Area resident today. I passed by the red victorian with glitter strewn steps, I waved at my chiropractor, and I looked at the flower murals painted on the sunshine-filled San Francisco flats. Michelle Tea called them buildings that look like birthday cakes and it is how I always think of them. I have always wanted to photograph San Francisco bay windows glowing from the inside during crisp Christmas-time nights. I will miss not knowing people and not being known.