(no subject)
The air smelled clean tonight as I walked back from picking up 35 pounds of laundry. Well, clean for New York, anyway, and I’ll take that over some suburban mess any day.
It was warm, and there was the faintest taste of spring in the back of my throat, and the slightest springtime stirring of my loins for no particular reason, but the trees were still bare and sky was still the color of tarnished steel, and seemed to have its weight as well, held above us by some unseen force that denied gravity, waiting to drop down and make us retreat back into our coats. But that will be another day, when I will talk with strangers on the elevator about the crazy weather, because what else is there to talk with strangers about, if not the weather? For today, I was happy to have my hoody in my bag and my jacket unzipped with my knit hat balled up in its pocket.
I was happy to be leaving town for the weekend - to go up to Albany to stay with my friend Amy and go celebrate our friend Jill’s 30th birthday. As I said to someone recently, I always feel like I am the only one getting older and everyone stays the same age, but every now and then one of them turns 30 and seems a lot closer to me in age all of a sudden. A lot closer than when they were 19 and I was 24, that is for certain.
I was happy to let go of my disappointment that Zooey would not be coming up there with me. I was disappointed not only because it means I have to take a bus instead of having a ride, but because I was looking forward to spending some time with him since it has been so long since we have hung out, driving up the Thruway and listening to CD after CD. And also, since the subject of this trip first came up my instinct said he would back out at the last minute. It doesn’t matter what the reason is. As far as I’m concerned any reason is legitimate. I am not one to give people guilt, and I am always one to make my own plans and my own contingency plans - but only because sometimes you want your instinct to be wrong. Sometimes you’d rather have the hurt of being surprised than the hurt of being right - even if the hurt is only a moment’s worth spent considering it and letting it free as you taste the almost-spring air.
It could still snow again. A great blizzard could come down on April 1st. I’d love it. But for this weekend I will enjoy the warmer weather a little bit further north. I'll act the fool with two of my close friends and better yet, with a bunch of strangers, which I always love. I just hope it is as warm there as well.
It was warm, and there was the faintest taste of spring in the back of my throat, and the slightest springtime stirring of my loins for no particular reason, but the trees were still bare and sky was still the color of tarnished steel, and seemed to have its weight as well, held above us by some unseen force that denied gravity, waiting to drop down and make us retreat back into our coats. But that will be another day, when I will talk with strangers on the elevator about the crazy weather, because what else is there to talk with strangers about, if not the weather? For today, I was happy to have my hoody in my bag and my jacket unzipped with my knit hat balled up in its pocket.
I was happy to be leaving town for the weekend - to go up to Albany to stay with my friend Amy and go celebrate our friend Jill’s 30th birthday. As I said to someone recently, I always feel like I am the only one getting older and everyone stays the same age, but every now and then one of them turns 30 and seems a lot closer to me in age all of a sudden. A lot closer than when they were 19 and I was 24, that is for certain.
I was happy to let go of my disappointment that Zooey would not be coming up there with me. I was disappointed not only because it means I have to take a bus instead of having a ride, but because I was looking forward to spending some time with him since it has been so long since we have hung out, driving up the Thruway and listening to CD after CD. And also, since the subject of this trip first came up my instinct said he would back out at the last minute. It doesn’t matter what the reason is. As far as I’m concerned any reason is legitimate. I am not one to give people guilt, and I am always one to make my own plans and my own contingency plans - but only because sometimes you want your instinct to be wrong. Sometimes you’d rather have the hurt of being surprised than the hurt of being right - even if the hurt is only a moment’s worth spent considering it and letting it free as you taste the almost-spring air.
It could still snow again. A great blizzard could come down on April 1st. I’d love it. But for this weekend I will enjoy the warmer weather a little bit further north. I'll act the fool with two of my close friends and better yet, with a bunch of strangers, which I always love. I just hope it is as warm there as well.