Lu Lu Eightball by Emily Flake

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try to remember

Well, there goes September.......

People always say that each year seems to go by faster and faster and whenever someone says that to me, I always respond that it actually is going by faster because as we get older and add another year to our list of years gone by, we have more years to compare each year too and so it really does go by more rapidly. Then people always look at me like I’m talking about time travel or something or like I’m crazy. I know that technically, time is always moving at the same pace but relatively, it’s going faster. I mean you can remember right? When you were little? Summer was long. A school year was long. The wait until each Christmas, glacial. Now it’s like Christmas, Fourth of July, Christmas, Fourth of July, Christmas Fourth of July YOU’RE DEAD.

I always imagine it must slow down again once you become an old person though.

In New York, in most places but especially in New York, the two best months out of the entire year are June and September. Just such a lovely time to live in the city. Here I am at the end of September, one of the two very best months and I’m asking myself, “Have you enjoyed yourself as much as you could have?” The answer is no of course. Of course I have been up in my head, making plans, reliving regretful moments, beating myself up about useless crap. I have had moments of being in it, of appreciating it but not enough. The good news is, I still have five days left! And October, well October ain’t half bad. I’m really going to try and appreciate the rest of Fall ’06 because, after all, there will not be another one.

Something great happened last week. My dear friend the Gallivanting Monkey helped remind me of something that I have been slowly forgetting over the past four years or so and it’s been pretty huge to me. I want to try and explain it but I’m afraid it will either be too abstract and esoteric to explain or it will just be really obvious and embarrassing but I’m going to try and put it into words anyway because it’s just really helped me so much and I wanted to share it.

It has to do with perception, and this balance between getting what I want and what I deserve. Mostly it has to do with hope.

My positive outlook has been a bit dulled over the past few years by my own desire to be realistic. It really began with me not getting into grad school and me pinning my entire acting career on if I got in or if I didn’t get in. I wanted to get in so badly but I think, deep down I didn’t think I deserved it and because I didn’t think I deserved it, I couldn’t believe in myself enough to do what I needed to do to get in.

I’ve been in mourning for my artistic self over the past year and a half and I’m getting through it and accepting it’s death and looking for a re-birth down the road but there are other things I hope for and I’m beginning to notice something that has slowly become very intrinsic in my personality.

The thing I’m noticing is this new propensity towards choosing defeat. It’s not something that I’ve always done. It’s come to me in adulthood and it’s not something I welcome. It has to do partially with not being able to STAND BEING IN LIMBO. I’ve talked about this difficulty many times on this blog. I just have so little patience and I feel so uncomfortable when I don’t have control over a situation and I’m waiting for life to hand me my fate. I feel so uncomfortable in these situations that it is sometimes much easier for me to just accept defeat. To concede, like John Kerry, too soon. It’s easier to do this because then, at least I know what I’m dealing with. I can move on. I may still be waiting for an answer but I know in my heart that I’ve lost, I’m not going to get what I want and then, of course I don’t. I don’t get what I want and I feel that in the end it’s because I didn’t deserve it. It wasn’t my fate.

Sorry, I’m going to try and reel this in a bit.

So the thing I’ve been struggling with is hope and faith. Where does it come from? It’s so intangible. People like George Michael say, “You gotta have faith.”: Ok, yes. I agree, you do gotta have it for sure but you can’t just fake faith. You can’t pull some faith out of your ass or squeeze it out of your heart for that matter. Faith has to be real in order to work its magic, really, really real. So where does it come from?

Here’s where the monkey pointed something out to me:

Faith comes from the absence of fear.

It comes from being brave. Isn’t that great?

I’ve been thinking about it the wrong way. I’ve been waiting for hope to be bestowed upon me. For life to decide that I’m worthy of trusting, worthy of a positive outcome. But it’s not that, well ok it is that a little bit but if I can just stop being afraid of not getting what I want. Maybe then, I can have it. Just don’t be afraid of hoping for it. Just fucking do it anyway. Go ahead and hope. Hope it up. Hope a whole bunch.

I know you might not get it la Ketch. You might not get what you want. And it might really, really hurt when you don’t get it. And the more you let yourself want it, the more it will hurt. The more you believe that you will get it, the more it will rip you apart when you don’t. But you can take it. Fuck yes. You have been ripped apart before and you survived. You will always survive it. So be brave because life without hope, life without faith..... it’s so much worse.

I’m making a wish now. I’m hoping for it so strongly that I just know. I just know that it will be. It will be true. There is no faltering. There is no lack of anything. It’s happening. I’m not afraid anymore.

Thank you monkey.

Oh and while I'm at it. If you are getting married and you need someone who is awesome to be the officiant, someone very articulate and spiritual and smart and funny and a really good writer and orator who will make your experience unique to you and accessible to all of your family and friends. Well, then you should really think about hiring the gallivanting monkey. She married the duper and I and look at us. We just had our 2 year anniversary and we're still like a coupla newlyweds. For real though. She is pure magic. Do you want your marriage to last? Ask her. You won't regret it.

sicko

Home sick today but guess what? I’m not sick. Oh lord I love it. I love calling in sick. It’s the only time you can truly have a free day because you’ve had no time to plan it. Just wake up and say, “Nope. Not today job. Not doing it. Staying home. Thanks.” I have a little invisible meter in my body that tells me when it’s okay to take a sick day. It has to do with how long it’s been since I’ve called in sick (at least 6 months) and how much unfinished work I have at the office (nothing that can’t be done tomorrow). Viola! La la la la la. The sun is out and it’s a very fally fall day.

I never got up the gumption to post that story I wrote. I will try to recap, distill if you will. It had to do with how I deal with asshole suits, specifically three ways in which I tend to deal with them. A. Kicking their ass, B. Ignoring and saying a prayer for their damned soul, C. Coming back with something so clever and witty that I look like a genius and for one brief moment they see themselves for the ass hole suit that they are.

“C” is extremely difficult to achieve because it has to do with timing and the alignment of stars but I had a very good example of “C” a couple of weeks ago and that's what I wanted to tell you about but it was just turning into this horrible brag story like, “Oh I’m so much smarter than these dudes and better than them and I kick so much ass.” Which may be true but who wants to hear about it? So the short version: These two homophobic suits and their well dressed handsome colleague were in the elevator with me and the one homophobe asked me if I thought the well dressed guy looked gay (he wasn't). I was in a clear headed space and I shot back, “No, and I’m a good person to ask because I have a lot of very close and dear friends who are gay.” Then I turned to the well dressed guy and said, “Honestly I would take this as a compliment because you look so good.” Then I turned to the homophobic asshole and said, “And your suit is horrible.” Then I walked out of the elevator without looking back and the OTHER homophobic asshole started laughing straight at his asshole friend saying, “OOHHHH MAN SHE NAILED YOUR ASS.” And the well dressed guy. Well, I could just tell that he really appreciated my comments.

Again, the “C” situation is rare and it’s much easier to pull off in an elevator. The very next day this other asshole suit ran into me and made me spill an entire cup of coffee all over my newspaper, which I was enjoying reading very much. He ran into me hard and didn’t apologize and I know he knew he did it. I was not in an elevator and I couldn’t come up with anything intelligent to counter back with, so I opted for “B” and prayed for his soul. I specifically asked god to let him come back as something slightly better than a lizard because that’s where I felt he was headed but I didn’t want to be unrealistic.

“A”, I am learning, is very rarely the best choice.

Can I just say that my dog is disgusting. He’s laying at my feet and he just ripped the most gnarly fart ever. GOD HE IS GROSS.

Last night I had this horrible dream that he was injured really badly. When I woke up I was so relieved that he was ok, just sleeping and snorting like a little angel at the foot of the bed. Then this morning Dup took him out in the back yard to pee and he rolled in something disgusting and came back smelling like ass. I swear I think he rolled in cat shit. I had to give him a bath. Now he smells better but when I took him outside for a walk, we were walking by the row of really nice brownstones on our block and he walked right up to the step of the very nicest one with the prettiest flowers and started pooping on their front step. I was like, “oh no, oh no, oh no.” but I couldn’t stop him because how would you like it if you were just starting to take a poop and someone was like, “No not there! Get up go over here over here!” So I took the bag I had out and started cleaning it up right away but there’s always that little bit of residue you can’t get up that these people would notice and I’m sure be pissed about but at least they wouldn’t know it was me or my dog. Then the guy that lived in the house came out and saw me. I wanted to kill myself right there. He saw me and scowled at me and SIGHED and then, of course, of COURSE.... Eliott started howling at him. I was like, “Lord take me now.” I drug Eliott away, apologizing to the man under my breath, “So sorry, sooo sorry.” And then two steps later Eliott picked up something disgusting off the ground and started eating it. I had to dig it out of his chompers. Then he tangled himself around my legs like we were in a cartoon or something.

Now he’s just sleeping and farting at my feet without a care in the world. Ah, the dog’s life.

So today, what will I do with it you ask? Yes, let me tell you. Well, there’s the apartment for starters. It needs vacuuming and general tidying. I’d like to do a little yoga. Then there are many errands: do some laundry, drop off dry cleaning, I need to go buy a folding table for the dog run event this weekend, I want to get some fall flowers to plant in a pot I got to go by the front door. Of course I will take E to the park and I need to talk to the City people about installing the message board for the dog run, I want to call this astrologist my friend Rachel recommended and oh yeah, I do have a Dr. appt. in the city but that’s not until 5:30pm. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned about calling in sick is that the day FLIES by. It will be 5:30pm before I know it. I won’t get all of that stuff done today but 2 or 3 things off the list will suffice. What’s important is that I go slow and just do whatever I feel like doing next. That’s the best day.

If I’m not careful, I’ll spend it in front of the computer so I’m going to get going now. I hope you have a good day too and if you're at work, maybe you should consider calling in sick tomorrow? Fridays are strategically the best day to do it because you get a three day weekend and by Monday everyone has forgotten that you were gone.

under the sun

Who cares who cares who cares. I’ve been working on this story I wanted to post but now I hate it. It’s so intrinsically me. It’s so familiar, so much like stories I’ve told in the past, experiences I’ve had. Plech, plech, Blech. Boring, Boring and Boringer. I hate myself and I want to die. No! I most certainly don’t. I just love saying that. It's so dramatic. It really gets people's attention. I’ve never been the suicidal type. Even when it was at its worst, I never considered it. I guess it’s never been bad enough for me. I'm very lucky to have avoided that kind of pain so far. I love my life but I’m self absorbed and self critical and all I want to do is complain. It’s impossible to complain with any aplomb because I have too much. I am too blessed. What’s the difference between pushing yourself and destroying yourself? It’s a fine line. It’s all about fine lines isn’t it? Every question worth asking has to do with some sort of delicate balance or another. The eastern philosophers say, “STOP BEING SO DIACHOTOMOUS!” It’s not one thing or the other it’s both things but my mind won’t think that way. Nothing is definite. It’s all grey matter. The lines are squiggly. It’s a rat’s nest out there. RATS! There I go again. It’s fall. I love the weather but I hate impending winter. And how can I not buy new boots, wool jacket & cashmere blend sweater? If I get a J Crew card (again), I can get 10% off my entire purchase. But if I love my husband, I will save. I will save. We’re going on a cruise in January. Did I tell you? Oh yes. 3 days to the Bahamas with Dup’s parents. They love a cruise. A cruise ship to me seems like hell on a boat but in this circumstance, I’m into it. I’m excited even. It seems like the most perfect environment to visit with them. Also, it’s in the Bahamas. Nothing wrong with that.

It’s all the same stuff. My thoughts my writing. The same loop over and over again. I guess it’s just my life happening.

Nothing wrong with that either.

Uh oh....

I'm working on a post I swear. In the meantime, we're making a calendar for a dog run fundraiser. One of the dog owners is a professional dog photographer. So, we got this free shoot of E. I had to explain this because I didn't want you to think that we had gone so far as to pay to have professional photos taken of our dog. Now that I see the photos she took though, I think we should pay her. Aren't they great!? Esp. for a shy, neurotic freak dog. She really got some good ones out of him.

On our walk to the Dog Run (a photo essay)

Duperican Graffiti

Wing Man

Water Tower

Bodega Man

"American Playground"

ruins on the waterfront

Brownstones

Fire Escapes

Greenpoint's Finest

Speeding motorcyle

we made it to the park

Park Luncheonette

Russian Orthodox Church

we made it to the dog run. eliott is on the left. rambler is on the right. he is a beagle puppy.