meet me in montauk.

photo from my own travels, circa 2004.

it’s wet and miserable here in nyc today; the snowstorm from last weekend has all but disappeared, leaving in its wake sheets on sheets of rain and grey.  unfortunately, it’s also days like this that completely kill my productivity.

ever since seeing ‘eternal sunshine of the spotless mind’ years ago i’ve had a fascination with the beach, particularly during rainstorms.  i remember one year heading down to cannon beach on christmas weekend with a couple of friends during one of oregon’s worst rainy seasons.  on a beach normally overflowing with families, children, dogs and beach toys, the entirety of the beach was quietly and absolutely deserted.  we fought so hard to walk the beach, fighting against the rain and wind with every step as the rain pelted us nearly horizontally as it fell, determined to knock us flat; it was one of the most peaceful and beautiful moments i’ll remember.  

now that i’m in new york and especially during times like these, it takes all i have to not fantasize a day away about trips to the rainy beach.  when i had my car it was no issue to instantly uproot for such spontaneous trips, but now when it’s an entire event to simply head over to the neighborhood ikea, such a journey to the beach seems a far reach at best.  one can dream, though.  and that’s exactly what i intend to do.

ch-ch-ch-changes.

at the writing of my last post, we were still in la, still pretty much same ol’.  since then, so much has happened, so much has changed that i don’t even know where i’d begin.  a rather incomplete list (but the most important), we’ve 1) moved to new york, 2) set up shop in clinton hill, brooklyn, ny, 3) i quit my job at match and found a new one in new york, 4) chris quit his job at original and moved out to new york to be with me and 5) totaled my car during the first snowstorm in new york in october in over 30 years.  oh yeah, and amidst that mess, i turned 28.  it’s been quite the whirlwind these last few months and it feels like years since we first set up shop in our new home state, but it’s only been since october.

without getting too personal about my choice for moving back, it’s been an amazing experience moving back in the city.  the last couple of months have been a mixed bag in terms of both elation and stress - it took us weeks to find an apartment that wasn’t completely out of our price range and/or a complete dump (and heartache on two we liked that both fell through), living with chris’ sister and three roommates in bushwick while we apartment hunted 20+ apartments each day, having all our belongings in storage and living out of suitcases while we apartment hunted, us having been out here for over two months now with no job leads for chris, and on our first trip back to pennsylvania, my car totaled in an 11 car pileup (11 at the least that i counted - chris had to get 31 stitches, i got a contusion on my forehead) on the way back.  thankfully, things have calmed down a great deal since then.  we found a place about a half block off the g in a newly constructed apartment complex fashioned from an old linen factory that we now call home.  slightly exasperated because it’s so expensive, absurdly so when compared to what i was paying in la, but neat since we now live in a studio with 13.5’ ceilings where we’re allowed to build a loft amongst many other home improvement projects (a home depot is literally behind us, which has proven to be immensely helpful).  it took us awhile to finally be able to get all our stuff out of storage and into the new place, and even then it was weeks later until we got most everything unpacked and sort of organized so that the space was at least livable for two people and a dog (and two cats, to come later).  i’d say we’re about 95% of the way there now which is such a huge relief; ideally i can’t wait until we’re completely done so we can finally start having friends over for dinners, cookies and pie.  

already this is so long and i already have the urge to stop, but if you’re reading this far down, thank you for being with me still.  so much has happened within these last few weeks and i know more will happen in the next couple of months, but all in all, i can already feel the good happening.  la was truthfully very difficult for me (more on that later, maybe) and while i’m effectively moving forward by coming back to new york, i’ve already started seeing the world in a changed perspective.  it’s nice.  it’s good.  in fact, it’s beyond good.  this, you guys, i can get used to.  

mama's maiden porch runts bid you a solemn farewell.

i typically don’t believe in this stuff, but sometimes the very things we don’t believe in have a way of shaking us to our core when we least expect. 

i’ve been having relatively vivid dreams in the last few months, but typically few and far between, and usually the meanings and symbolism behind them obscure and irreverent.  not so with this most recent one, the one last night.  summed into only a few words, the dream took place in the few moments immediately following armageddon, only the few hundreds of people left, including most that i knew, drifting across an open sea on battleships and floating townhomes with the delusion that there was somewhere for us to go, something for us to move onto. 

curious, i consulted a dream dictionary, and this is what it had to say:

of armageddon: to dream about armageddon now is usually a deep-rooted fear that your world is about to change dramatically. by “your world” i am referring to everything around you, your job, your family etc. in prophetic dreams armageddon predicts a dramatic change in one’s life.

of the sea: to dream that you are lost at sea, suggests that you are drifting around in life without any direction.  you are feeling overwhelmed by emotions.  

i typically don’t believe in this stuff, but sometimes the very things we don’t believe in have a way of shaking us to our core when we least expect.

(de)liberation.

isn’t it strange that human beings will invariably expect the worst to happen only so that if and/or when things do inevitably turn for the worst, they find comfort and solace in telling the world and themselves ‘i told you so?’

short stories: yea or nay?

in looking back through some digital and analog archives i uncovered a small mass of writings i’ve done throughout the years; normally i’m hesitant to share these for a variety of reasons, but i’m thinking it might be good practice to post both these and new writings (to get back into the habit of writing at least weekly) to share with my readers.  but, i’m still not entirely convinced.  so, sound out here, readers: yea or nay on postings of old and/or new short stories?

grey life.

coffee in the blackest black, memories of our swedish ancestors once but now long gone. a day to explore how appropriate the album leaf can be when we can’t even find our hands in these sheets of madness pounding down from above. lost but never the more found, soundtracks for a few hours seemingly parallels that of our own years; transcending above the physical, the need to return seems questionable.

uncertainty in a time of decline. revisited.

(originally posted exactly one year ago - 12.18.08)

“when there’s everything to say, but nothing can be said.”

i’m happy to report that this has dramatically changed in the 365 days since the original posting.  there is now nothing to say, though everything can be said.  and that, my friends, is the way things ought to be.

ofttimes...

the silence is resounding.

solve for the unknown.

what do you do when you know you’re fighting a losing battle?