Good Nights

Some nights are good. They end early- say 9:30, 10pm, and I'm tired, but not exhausted- not physically worn down. The nights when I'm not physically worn down are the good ones. Emotional wear, I can take it- mostly, but the physically exhausting days... I don't know which leads to which, and sometimes they can be independent of one another.

So tonight was one of those good nights. My bag was heavier than most nights, but felt lighter somehow. I noticed the reader board at the corner of PS 167 as I passed it:

FIRST DAY OF CLASS

9/8

Already? I wondered where the summer went. The air was cool- Ah, relief, a feeling for which I quickly scolded myself. Think of how cold it gets- how you loathe going outside, the slashing, inescapable cold winds finding their way down your collar, refrigerating your nose. It took all summer for your shoulders to resume their natural hanging position again, hunched up to cover your exposed neck during the winter.

I walked past the 7' climbing wall in the school yard- a sophisticated piece of playground equipment. What more does a child need than monkey bars, a slide, a swing and a something to climb on and chase her friends around? I should climb it, I decided on the spot. I can probably touch the top while still on the ground, but I should still do it, just to see if I can pull myself up and over.

There was an exhilaration coming from the usually ghostly playground. Children's shrieks and loud voices; "I got you!" "You're gonna get it, boy!" It wasn't until I walked all the way around the corner that I realized the presence of kids on the other side of the fence- a normal sight during the summer, sure, but only during daylight hours, before school officials come and lock up the "schoolyards to parks" at sunset. The gates were still open- a glitch in the matrix! A mistake, for sure! A chance to play in the darkness and squeeze more fun out of the day. I rarely find myself on a playground anymore, rarer still am I running around one, hiding, ducking, dodging, tagging, shrieking in physical delight. In that moment, though, I had the strongest urge to join these kids. I could scale the climbing wall! I considered it. Oh, who am I kidding? I can't do that. That's ridiculous. My imagination couldn't fathom doing any of those things in the company of these stranger children.

I thought of other activities- I could lay on the bench and finish my book by the light of the fluorescent orange street lamp. As I approached the second set of open gates, the sense of possibility heightened when I looked to see if the bench was taken. It wasn't. When I'd reached the open gates, I paused, contemplating. What time is it? 10pm- it's still early. Maybe... The pull was intoxicating: a forgotten schoolyard, unlocked and opened- like a magical portal on the block, a gift from the gods, a break from the monotony of the sidewalks, stoops, curbs, fences- forcing kids to play in straight lines- and out of the streets.

I smiled, and continued walking home, leaving the schoolyard to the children. My presence would have only made them feel supervised and their parents suspicious, I reasoned. For now, it was good enough that I gave pause to my longings. It's not often I acknowledge them.

Clearly the focus of my life...

It's as though all I have time for in my apartment is sleeping, and feeding and cleaning up after my animals. I work to sleep and take care of my animals? Is this living?

I'm finally over my guilt of not allowing the pets into my room when I sleep at night. I never thought I'd break the habit of sleeping with Sailor. I don't know it won't resume when the weather gets cooler, but I've stopped needing justification for demanding one space in my whole entire apartment that is just my own. It's not so much the knowledge that my pets are in all the other spaces, it's that they leave markers (waste and fur) of their presence everywhere.

I love them and I wonder what my life would be like without them.

*Bump*

Nevermore is the title of this Blog truer... Five years without an entry. I'm tempted to not go back and re-read old posts (which I haven't read in almost as many years). It'll be like starting over without deleting all traces of my past. This blog is about the passage of time; it feels a disservice to try to erase the past or deny it. You're welcome to read my old posts, but I'd rather not. They are a record of my life when I was less connected to it, drank heavily and abused my personal relationships at every opportunity.

My aim in revitalizing this blog is to encourage my writing and ween me off Facebook. In other words, it's to reconnect me with myself- my deeper, truer self. We'll see how it goes.

Welcome to: Maspeth

Yesterday, as Anna, Jake and I were walking to our car from the pizza restaurant, a little girl, no older than Jakob called out to him from across the street. She was holding her mother's hand and waving to him frantically, very happy to see and recognise him on the street.

Well, Jake didn't recognise her enough to know her name, let alone respond to her, and Anna and I wondered out loud, "Who's that, Jake?" He didn't respond to us and we kept on walking.

Then, from behind us, a complete stranger said, "That's Ashley." Anna and I looked at each other as it simultaneously dawned on us how freakishly small our neighbourhood is.

oh, god

"erin mulligan! are you drunk?!"

"i've had quite a bit of jack daniels-san! what do you think?!?!"

memoirs did well; brokeback- not so much.

whatever. i don't care.

i had a good enough weekend. saturday was pilates in the gym, lunch with my friend, grace, and an afternoon nap with anna. :) :) :) no poker in the evening, thank goodness.

sunday was breakfast in the am with anna, church and brunch with chris and churchy folk. it was good, but tiresome (the visit with church- not chris).

the evening was oscars with chris and jack. and cute, cuddly, lickly toby.

can i just say, without saying too much, that i've enjoying my writing binge lately?

not to say too much, though; i wouldn't want to jinx it.

sssssshhhh!!! please, no comments about my posting-frequency.

seeking: eternally grateful (last known alias: eg mudy)

scared. confused. vulnerable.

(but external comfort is not what i seek. i thank you, sincerely, anyway.)

i went to church today.
broken.
healed, for the first time.
not healed by them, but by my decision to go.
"supporting" a friend.
curiosity.
underlying need.

not afraid
of churches, anyway;
of being in them, that is to say.

i've carried myself through the last (nearly) four years.
i needed to bear that burden;
to feel self-sufficient, self-sustaining, self-aware and to prove that these descriptions of me were self-evident.

weakness- the is the most liquid word in the whole english language. put a price tag on that word and try to sell it universally; you'll never make the same sale twice.

capable. i. am.
capable.
all by my lonesome. too.
i'm no kitten stuck up a tree.
i need no crutch to get me by.

the service ended today and i felt relieved, rejuvinated, and resiliant. and, for the first time in a long time, i felt a resonance in my long-forgotten soul. in fact, i remembered that i had one.

Living up to my acronised name...

Snowball fights with Christine, high stakes poker nights with Emily, warming cuddles under the blankets with Anna: ceci est ma vie.

The Lost is Found!

The dead alive
The prisoner is reprieved!

Yesterday, as an I-love-you-and-I-found-this-outside-while-the-dog-took-a-crap Valentine's Day surprise, Anna returned my phone to me! Woo-hoo!

She also made me a card (with a pop-up heart) and took me out to dinner. No rules, just right- Outback Steakhouse, baby. We broke ALL the SB rules!!! But it was soooo worth it. :)