Crafty weekend.

The absence of you
leaves me
surrounded.

breathless.
with
an empty head
and
an
achy soul.

leaky faucet.
16 feasts without turkey
and counting.
being awake.
during the quite hours of darkness.
when
you're not sure if you really exist
beyond your bed
and
the sound
of the heat pouring through the base board.

while you were sleeping

the time changed.

jumping into arms.
hand holding in pockets.
sunglasses on.
down 6th.
richie rich.

subway downtown.
laser.
slippery pete.
reversing the gender roles in arm holding.

loreley.
beer.
camembert cheese.
thumb nail at the end of the wiener.

talking about movies.
and
depression.
and
staten island.
and
glorious facial hair.

lecture at the aia on laguardia.
white wine
with
canadian friend.
geriatrics and architecture.

tall bud.
dead phone.
waiting out front.

subway embraces.

bar nine.
couches.
unpleasant internet revelations.
red stripe.
magic hat.
tater tots burn my mouth.

brisk walk to Terminal 5.
jumping into arms.
palm tattoos of a nickel, Lincoln, a bell, a cassette, and a mustache.
all in a heart.
or
finger puppet tattoos.
and
apologizing to strangers for holding a two person dance party on the corner.

the opening band.
a cozy seat on a bench.
and the angel light.
on the bald guy.

then

iron and wine.
and
arms wrapped and holding tight.
and
singing.
and
whispering.
and
not
ever
wanting
the
moment
to end.

then
taxi.
to
train.
and
coming back
for
one last kiss.
to
sweep me right off of my feet.

once again.

it's about

feeling.
alive and myself.
and
laughing.

it's about knowing.
certainty was always an illusion.

suddenly,
i am not afraid.

to
feel
this
way.

this whole notion of leaving keys.
smoking cigarettes.
sending postcards to the wrong address.
over and over.
and
feeling.
pain.
and goodbyes with a kiss.
breathing the cold air smoke.
and the wind
that whistles you back into reality.

Testing

Is this thing on?

for lunch.

3 slices of muenster cheese.
7 spoon fulls of cookies and cream ice cream.
1,000,000 cheez-its.

Late night.

2 days in Paris.
red wine drunkards.
5:45 am wake-up.

Last night.

Him: I'm sorry, I smell like beer, cigarettes, and gasoline.
Me: I can only smell boston kreme's.


Him: I have Bailey's in my car.
Me: But I'm drinking tea!


Him: I don't mean to sound arrogant.
Me: Go right ahead, I'm a music snob too.
Him: Where did you come from?
Me: Lindenhurst.
Him: Besides that.
Me: 1952.


Him: I got a New York City Library Card today.
Me: That place is haunted.
Him: Really?
(pause)
Him: OH! Ghostbusters!!
Me: Beware of flying books.


Him: (puts a ton of keys down on the table)
Me: What are you, a Janitor?
Him: They're called Custodians now.
Me: Fucking A. Waiter - Server, Janitor - Custodian, I keep offending people.

After almost two years, the struggle continues...

An open letter to liquid.

Dear Water:

Oh water. One day we'll be able to live harmoniously and I will be able to consume you in normal increments throughout the day. I'll be hydrated, and you'll have a home in my belly and, consequently, the toilet, and you'll go back to the place you came from. Oh water, when will this utopian lifestyle come to be?

Severely dehydrated and refusing to drink you,

Suzy

Why do I hate drinking so much? It's not just water. I just generally hate drinking. Unless it's whiskey.

Which, coincidentally, I drank a lot of this weekend.

Which went as follows...

ray lamontagne ballet dance party in my underwear.
catching up whilst out on the town with a friend.
wii tennis drunkards.
wake-up, egg sandwich, back to bed.
food shopping in the pouring rain.
potato burrito dinner party for some lovely friends.
birthday celebration for John Tarzan.
dart game.
drawing party.
fork jewelery.
cupcake wars.
visit from mama.
LIRR.
the strand bookstore.
dylan thomas books.
union square crack head bench.
making a friend. camo ken. with linda the dog.
my ryan.
unpleasant news.
grumpiness.
coldcoldcold.
lil bookstore in the west village.
a lot of old people in the hamper.
coffee at the waverly diner.
getting over it.
cab uptown.
you are the best thing.
sunday kind of love.
a well needed visit with jackie.
baskin robbins cookies and creme.
eating ice cream in the cold streets of ny.
talking to roman in Italy via skype.
doing a dance.
laughing.
blockheads with ryan.
looking.
staring.
looking.
laughing.
eating.
enjoying life.
to the max.
drunkie.
johnny foxes.
penn station.
12:01 train to babylon.
laughing with strangers.
spontaneous dancing and singing party on the train.
making new friends.
while drunk.
and tired.
and longing
to
be
back
on the UES.
with
him.

desire.

quiet.
still.
soft.
slow.
gentle.
calm.
flow.
deep.
long.
light.
easy.
dream.
mood.
complete.

Yes we did!

Whooooooooop!

I cried like a baby during Obama's speech last night. I am beyond words.

So, so, so, so happy.

All done voted.

I went on lunch.

Walked in.
Gave my address.
Went to another table.
Gave my last name.
Signed the book.
Went into the booth.
Closed the curtain.
Voted.
Opened the curtain.
Done-zo.

Took about 3 minutes total. Whoop!

Election Day!

I had something else to do in the wee hours of this morning before work (mainly sleep), so I'll be going to vote circa 4:30pm with, surely, the rest of my town!

Go Team!!!!!!


In other news...

I had an intense weekend.

Friday night I went to a wedding with Maria as her date. Going to a wedding with someone of the same sex is quite liberating. You should try it.

Saturday morning was lost.

Saturday evening I got dressed up as a ballerina (my pointe shoes, from when I was 16, still fit! sort of.) and went to a Halloween party at Jeffery Bean's house. Best part of the night was the full on Bouncing Souls dance party circa 2am.

I love daylight savings.

Sunday was my nephew Chase's christening. First time in a church in almost 3 years. I love that church. So much fun stuff to look at when I should be reciting the Our Father with the rest of the crew. I spent about 2 hours dancing with children. Sunglasses, hoola-hoops, and the macarena.

Last night my Ryan came out for a visit.
I turned off my car to get out and greet him at the train station (it's tradition), and when we got back in...it wouldn't start up.
Bogus.
I got a jump and we were on our way.
Then we played wack-a-mole, and my dad came to make sure everything was ok. He's adorable.
We cooked dinner and napped and poof! the night was over. Just like that.

It always seems to end too soon.

Now I am a bell head and he is a cassette head.