(no subject)

Oct 04, 2006 14:49

i was late to work today, my second time. it leads me to believe that a life with this boy will mean a fantastic inability to part readily. he bought me flowers last night as he waited to retrieve his german friends from their visit to the national zoo. i forgot to ask their opinion of the tamarin monkeys. matthew swears that when we were there, we could see the lazy flickering ears of the kangaroos. but i didn't have the temerity, or the eyesight, to witness such a thing. anyway the flowers. the vase he'd bought me in boston was still packed away in newspaper headlines, articles from july that are obsolete as telegrams. we rummaged for the vase, leaving his friends at the bar to try yuengling in mason jars. they had to switch back to english as we arrived and i felt bad.

we ate burgers in the poorly ventilated bar and daniel presented matthew with a drawing he once composed - sloppy australian scientist scrawlings of the two of them, separated by a beer. the glass of beer was not drawn to scale and instead resembled a giant water trough, the kind that circus performers dive into. a couple at the bar played a lot of downer songs on the jukebox, thinly-veiled references to abortion and depression. americans are very passive-aggressive, i tell them. we let somebody else's lyrics speak for us. matthew says to have a round at the jukebox, then. we play the rolling stones, and ac/dc, and matthew finds a new zealander on accent alone. when we leave, he calls matthew "our son" in his farewell.

we make it through one dance scene of singin in the rain, before the laptop mysteriously closes itself. was gene kelly gay? he wonders. no no, i don't think so. could be. probably not.

i feel like i must clean up bits of my life, sanitize then, spitshine them pretty before presenting them here. but i don't, this is it. i sometimes fall asleep with a headache i think will be the end of me. i squirm badly at night, when in pain, enough to rouse him from the dreams he picks. we often sleep late on the weekends and miss the best of the vegetable deals of eastern market. we often miss out on the city completely. but even the daily, mundane is sparkling with him i think.

how do i sign up for the gre's i wonder? writing a book is less daunting, it's almost like hiding within a really fussy safety blanket. lately i want to run away and elope. don't really have the location in mind, but have him.
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