Thursday, February 23, 2006

pimps and catholics

There was a nightlight in the room. A bright fuschia gleam to go with exalted wall to wall pink. I was lying there in the suitor's guest room, which was decorated for his eight year old niece when she came to stay there for a short while. He was in his old room in the Catholic house probably knocked out from our late night viewing of Hustle and Flow.

My feet were twitching, perhaps from the bottomless pots of tea sipped, sipped, and sipped all day long with his folks and old friends from the 'hood.' It was one of those days that made me feel like both a complete grown-up and a total kid. Sitting down for dinner with the suitor and his 'rents. A proper meal with proper conversations. Pot roast. Steamed greens. Dinner napkins. Harrison Ford movies. Michael Caine. Who's Bruce Campbell? Olympics. Ice skating hopefuls. Dessert, coffee, to be followed by a lazy boy while Mrs F insisted on doing the dishes. Now, you tell me how I'm going to low ride in that chair while the lady of the house, the same lady who made dinner, is soaking and scrubbing. So what do I do? What I do best in awkward moments, stealth. Why don't you two go out and get a movie, she says.

We do. Then we drive thru the golden arches for some of their golden fries. We get back to his place, to an empty sink, centerpiece back on table and beds made to mess up. His dad still looking up Lotto numbers and mom in rollers.

His mom reaches for the DVD and asks if we got a 'rapper movie.' I start to stealth again. We watch hustlers flow and then I return to my pink room. I lay there willing for the light to dim. When you're a kid the dark is scary- you want to be able to see everything. When you're older you want to leave some things in the dark. This past weekend a light shed on the suitor. A light that showed him in a more natural state of being. Laid back in chairs, fixing VCR players (by pluggin it in) and turning chagrin as old friends refreshed stories of naked toothbrushing and second story jumping. Everyone gets to be a pimp when they go back home. In that light was warmth and it's always been there but now I know where it all comes from.

Monday, February 13, 2006

united colors of benito

TURIN, Italy. When "Stati Uniti d'America" was announced during the opening ceremony, I couldn't help but be proud. Albeit, I wish the 'Statis' were more into International sports. I've actually been to the Olympics. My father took my brother and I on one trip growing up. 1988 Seoul Summer Olympics. I suppose a trip like that mounts to a lifetime of trips to Chuck E Cheese. Did I grasp the significance of the event at age 8 when I was running around the stadium with my brother and cousins? No. Do I understand the significance of the 2006 Olympics being the first Olympics in which North and South Korea walked in as one? Yes. Technically, North and South Korea are still at war since a peace treaty was never signed since its divide in 1953. Officials say that as cultural and economic exchanges between the two sides have increased and making arrangements with secretive North Korea has always been difficult due to their complicated political standing. Can a sporting event reunite the two nations? I don't know. But it could be a start.

Here's what I do know: Bob Costas decided traded in his red mop for a brown one. Torino Italia is the world's oldest republic, founded in 301. Norway holds the medal records, 261. Iceland has never medaled in the Winter Olympics. Not so icey. USA sent the largest delegation, 211 athletes. India, the second largest population, sent 4. The stadium was built by Benito Mussolini. And the world instills a little hope in the Olympics to bring us closer to peace and each other. This morning American source news headlined snowball fights in Central Park over highlights in Torino. Hopefully, that storm will settle.

Fly tomato, fly!

Sunday, February 12, 2006

Blizzard '06, record snowfall over two feet.

mama nature
Mama Nature got quite a blow. It's like she was holding it in all season. Then just as we thought we were going to coast through winter with mild climates, she let it all out. She puffed out over two feet (they say the last time we hit a record like this was sixty years ago). This weekend felt like a good, solid burp after beer and buffalo wings, it was waiting to happen.

As rough as it is, this feels right.
two sides

It was also this time a year ago when there was heavy snowfall but I wasn't at home watching Heather Graham movies. I was walking through Central Park under orange flags. I remember as I walked through The Gates that I wished I was going in between the orange poles with someone. I wished that someone was there to explain their take on the orange. I wished I was focusing on the art rather than the hand-holding all around. I wished that I was sharing my pretzel (not selling them*). I was also probably thinking about a new job, a new apt, new travels, and a new hairdo, the usuals during a self-reflective walk.

It's been said that when you're single, true introspection can take place. Hence phrases like, "I just need to take some time for myself," "I need figure myself out". Conversely, there's also a sense of reflection that you can't get from yourself or even from family or close friends. The one that you're intimate with will tell you things about you that others haven't seen or had the effort or assertion to say. They'll tell you that you snore. That you have a way of arguing. That you trail off (or on and on) in longer stories. That you brush your teeth funny. That you get defensive. That you need to let things go once you've accepted an apology. They should be telling you these things to try and make you a better person. Or, sometimes, just to tease you.

There are two sides in a reflection, one can't exist without the other. To grow, to change, to be a better me, I need both- me time and he time.

*I saw a post on CL to 'help the arts while being outdoors, meeting great people interested in art and enjoying hot meals'. Translation: Sell Fritos and Snapples at the concession stand by Sheep's Meadow. I arrive, they hand me some fingerless gloves so that I can efficiently work the register. Corn chips and peach iced tea on the house, how could I leave?
two of hards

What's harder? Shopping around for lingerie in an overcrowded Victoria's Fredericks? Or trying on countless teddys because they're too big in certain areas and too small in others? Or putting it on in the bathroom and then standing in front of the mirror wondering how in the world any woman executes a sexy entrance from the bathroom right after a filling Valentine's meal without appearing self-concious or feeling downright silly? "I'll be right back, I'm just going to get a little more comfortable" or "I just need a minute to freshen up" are phrases in a script of a sitcom show.

Heart day. Not hard for only men.