And Good Riddance...

I have never been so pleased to see the end of a year arrive. 2006 can only be better. 2005, I hardly knew ye... and so what?

So much for not having much time to blog...

Sarah got off after half a day yesterday so she came downtown to my job to have lunch with me. Then, after some gentle cajoling on my part, she spent the next 2.5 hours sitting in my cube, just hanging out, waiting until I could leave so she could give me a ride home. Shortly after she dropped me off at my place, Catherine arrived. we amused ourselves with anecdotes and stories, then headed out to dinner at the Rocky Run Cafe. Before heading back to my apartment, we picked up marshmallows for cocoa from the neighborhood grocery store in Charles Village.

Once back at home, C and I got into our pajamas and exchanged presents. She got me a book I'd been eyeing at the used book store in Boston the last time I was there, but hadn't purchased, and also two framed reprints of A. Aubrey Bodine photos (Baltimore Pictorialist). I gave her a green and brown striped square shaped bowl that reads (on the inside bottom) "if it ain't chocolate it ain't breakfast" and a complimentary square shaped plate that says "promise me anything, but give me chocolate." I also gave her two chocolate mint scented candles and a fun pair of flowery trouser socks.

My sister and mom and Jim were in Hampden for the Christmas Lights Extravaganza, and after they grabbed dinner at Cafe Hon, Caryl was set to come to my place. Once she arrived we made decadent latte mugs full of hot chocolate with whipped cream (whipped cream and marshmallows in Caryl's case) and settled in to watch "Elf," which we'd all seen before but found charming.

Since Catherine had to get going by about 8:45 this morning, I got up when she did and started on breakfast (turkey bacon, oven toast, eggs, and mango sauce on the side). Now Caryl and I are just bumming around slowly easing into the day...

Holiday

Today is the last day, for the next 8 business days, that I will report to work. I've moved some mountains to get my assignments to a point of completion (or at least reasonable progress) before the new year. I've given cards to coworkers, arranged a small lunch for the subset of work people with whom I'm reasonably close, and pretty much have emptied the kitchenette fridge of anything of mine that could possibly spoil while I'm away from the office.

So I'll find some more loose ends to tie up, but mostly I'll wander from cube to cube, talking to cronies, listen to each of the 8 CDs I'm taking in, some of them Christmas-related, some not. And while I'm editing the Chess strategies manual, I'll listen to the 80s Broadway "Chess," which of course features some Russians and an American and all this drama about defecting and being "nobody's child." The story wouldn't work now in this post-Cold War era, but some of the songs are just stellar.

And then tonight both Catchka and my sister Caryl are coming over. For the next few days, I'll do last minute shopping for my mom and Sarah's parents, whom I expect to see over the break, and drink hot chocolate, and watch silly movies, and make merry, and all that jazz.

I'm sure that between being out of pocket myself and the fact that most of you will be busy yourselves, that activity on this blog will be limited. I hope your days are merry and bright, whatever days you do or do not commemorate.

We'll resume this discourse full-force in 2006!

The Metaphoric Vehicle Makes All Stops

Tonight was the final Voice in Modern Fiction class. Well, it was the optional additional week. More than half of us didn't bother to show, but for those of us who did, it was rewarding. Lovely red wine, eggnog & bourbon, a delectable cheese with a very nutty taste that complimented the wine nicely.

My professor commented favourably upon my last iteration of the story I'd been working on over the course of the semester. Reading over his comments on the hard copy once I got home was satisfying, to say the least. I managed to make the narrative engaging, at last. It was challenging--the most vulnerable I've had to be, where my writing is concerned, in a long time. I felt outclassed by the other students, who are all fiction concentration (whereas I'm a poetry concentration)--I likened it to being a boxer whose dominant hand has been taped and wrapped--forced to use the least comfortable "paw" until she's able to do so fluidly and gracefully.

I checked my grade report online today. The instructor has yet to submit, but my poetry professor has weighed in. I got an A. We'll see if I continue on my straight-A-streak.

I'm off classes until January 25th, on which date I will begin my last semester before Thesis. Fall of 2006 here I come.

A prospective client (freelance editing business client) tried to issue me an ultimatum this morning, so I told him to take his manuscript elsewhere. Now he's all "I'm willing to work on your schedule." I wasn't trying to play games or be coy. I wanted him to do what he needed to do to get his editorial needs met. Seems that he was just bluffing.

Object lesson: The position of detachment (or lack of investment) is the position of power. Obviously I already knew this, but I'm still pleasantly surprised when it rings true, and I'm the one in the position of power, of course...

I finally watched the Roman Polanski psychological thriller "Repulsion" that Mr. Arthouse Cinema lent to me last week. I wonder what point the director was making about female madness and sexuality (and the repression, thereof).

This past weekend I went to the Holiday Party of my coworker and her husband. They have a lovely home in North Baltimore County. A few other people from work came and of course it was a matter of minutes before we all started talking about the office. Some people don't want to talk about work outside of the job, but I have to say, it's comforting to me to be able to kvetch with others who feel my pain.

I think my cell phone is on the fritz. If it's idle for too long, it turns itself off. Now that it's my only phone, this is actually a big problem...

Wanna Split a Cab?

The temperature had dropped by the time I left the salon. I knew there was no way I'd be willing to wait for the bus, so I stopped off at the ATM, withdrawing a 20 for cab fare. I planted myself on what is arguably the best corner in Baltimore city to get a taxi. While I waited, shivering a bit, I noticed a gentleman that I assumed was waiting for the MTA (this auspicious corner is also a bus stop). I quickly sized him up as being attractive. Of course he was smoking (I always, much to my chagrin, find a nice-looking man with a cigarette to be even more attractive). At one point we made eye contact, and he started talking. He really needed the next cab he said.

"Oh, you're waiting for a cab, too?" (I'd never had competition for a cab on this corner, and by rights, he was there first).

He asked me where I was going and it turns out that he was heading in the same direction, so he asked "Wanna split a cab?"

I indicated that I did, so he got a little more chatty. I learned the better part of his life story. He really really needed to make it to the construction site where he worked to pick up his check, esp. since he's quitting that crew to work elsewhere. He really needed to deposit the check, he said more than once.
He'd been in Europe for the last five years, working as a chef.

"Were you a bohemian artist type?"
"There's nothing bohemian about me; I like expensive things too much...I mean I'm not saying I'm a capitalist or anything, it's not all about money, but I don't mind money."
"So you're a capitalist," I said.
"Not really. I can't be bought."
"I'm a capitalist," I told him.

He asked where I was from and when I answered that I was born in Washington, DC he replied "You didn't make it too fah."

"And you're from Boston," I said.
"Oh, you guessed."

Okay, gentle reader, so here is where I tell you that a couple of things were obvious to me in this moment:

He smelled of alcohol (he said he'd already had a few drinks, but before he mentioned it, I smelled the evidence) and he was not the kind of man with whom a woman should make any sort of emotional entanglement. You don't want to hitch your wagon to his star, believe me.

But he is incredibly charming and personable, and the accent... well, if you're like me, you've got a thing for the boston accent. It slays me! And it was also abundantly clear to me that he'd probably broken a lot of promises and a lot of hearts in his time.

Finally, an unoccupied cab happened by and we both hopped in.

"So, how are we going to work out the fare? I never done this before, I just always see people in movies spllitting cabs." I told him that since my apartment was just a few blocks over from his stop that he should pay 3/4 of whatever the fare would be when he got out and I would take care of the rest.

He gave me a five.

"I'm Matthew," he told me, extending his hand.
"Kate."

We were soon at 33rd and Charles. I opened the door and got out first so he wouldn't have to open the door on his side into oncoming traffic.

"Well, see you later Kelly."
"Kate."
"Right, Kate."

Thaw

I was very concerned about the ice/wintry mix blitz that was forecasted for yesterday. Thank God the temperature stayed above freezing, because while there were slick spots here and there, it was nothing like it could have been. The sleet ultimately turned to rain, which did a nice job of melting the thin veneer of frost.
This morning it is a balmy 44 degrees which means we are in the clear for the foreseeable future. All in all, a non-event.

My poetry group was supposed to meet last night, but the threat of bad weather and the busy-ness of the season led us to the conclusion that we should cancel it for this month. One of the members, Cheryl, and I still met up for dinner, though. The proximity of the One World Cafe, and the fact that C is a vegetarian made it the obvious choice.

I don't have a ton of money for presents this year, but I did make Cheryl a "Writing Poetry" mix as a gift. I bought and downloaded some stuff by the Flaming Lips, the Orange Peels,and Rachel Yamagata to include with a lot of Beth Orton (Cheryl has seen her live, so that was cool. I didn't know if she'd be familiar with her or not) thrown in. Bjork, the Be Good Tanyas, Alison Krauss and Union Station, and Karrin Allyson rounded things out. By and large, it's a very contemplative compilation--perfect for writing. Try as I might for another "vibe" my mixes tend to always be that way. Slow, a little melancholy.

Back home by about quarter till 9, I started and finished Adam Rapp's very short, but on point piece, Nocturne.
We are discussing it next week in the final (optional additional) Voice in Modern Fiction class. There promises to be a great variety of spirits and libations, which is why I'm psyched to attend an extra week of class. I can discuss literature a whole lot better after a few drinks.

So it seems that my [middle] sister, Crystal, is talking to me again. She says that she was never not talking to me. Funny how that period of silence (including not returning calls I made to her, Instant Messages I sent her while she was online,and e-mails, by and large) followed a conversation we had about two weeks ago in which we disagreed, fervently, about the family dynamic in our house during our growing up years.

It is not uncommon for siblings to have varying perceptions about the experience of growing up in the same house, I know, but it bears mentioning that my middle sib and I are 10 years apart, so that further extends the disconnect and adds texture and nuance to the situation. Then again, my youngest sister and I are 12 years apart, and she and I see things very similarly...

In any case, Crystal and my mother share the Revisionist Historian gene. They both need to minimize and undermine the violence and abuse that was so prevalent in our house because they perceive it to be disloyal...or something...to acknowledge what our father was capable of. But, more than that, I don't think either of them can bear to perceive the situation for what it was, because of what it would suggest about them to themselves.

Or maybe I am just arrogant. Who's to say that my perception is the absolutely correct one?

Essentially, we've called a truce (I never saw our argument as anything but an airing of views, not a relationship deal-breaker, anyway). She simply wants to avoid certain topics. I see it this way. She's 22. And when I was 22 I couldn't imagine ever feeling any differently about anything than I did then. My opinions were fixed and solid and had been reached through critical reasoning and extensive analysis. I had things figured out and was simply waiting for the rest of the world to catch up.

As the eldest child of a fragmented family the greatest service I can provide for my sisters is to be an anchor for them. To be the one waiting at the end when they come out on the other side of their difficulties, their folly, their madness.

And I'm strong enough to have one or both of them ignore me in anger for a time if it comes to that, because I want so much to be the one who always tells them the truth, even if it cuts them to the quick at first. I'm not just speaking about the truth about our family, according to me.

Sometimes my sisters, being 20 and 22, make awful choices--do things I wish they wouldn't, and I want to save them from humiliation, from pain, from getting taken in by sheisters. I beg them to listen to me because I know, because I've made all those errors myself. I want to tell them that from 32 some things that you do in your 20s will still haunt you. Oh, but at their ages, and long beyond, I'm afraid, I was hellbent on having my own way, and I've come out all right.

So I'm working on trusting God with their lives,knowing that he cares for them so much more than I do, loves them more violently than I ever could.

I've just returned from my last poetry workshop of the semester. As these things usually are, it was anticlimactic. A few people brought foodstuffs (the brie was tremendous), but other than the crackers, cheese, cupcakes, and diet Coke, it was like any other class. We each (12 of us) had our final offerings discussed and dissected. My "The Hapless Spinster" piece was a big hit. It was an experiment in writing, explicitly, in a voice other than my own. All in all, one absentminded professor aside, not too bad. I even managed to eek out a poem about raccoons for crap's sake, how bad could it have been?

this was inevitable...this was inevitable...this was inevitable...

It's so cold outside I felt like I might be about to lose my mind as I stood there waiting for the bus. And when it did arrive, insult to injury, gentle reader! I board, getting ready to swipe my day pass, when the bastard driver pulls forward all kamikaze-like, and I end up flat on my back with my granny boots in the air. I couldn't even front, I was like "EXCUSE ME!"

Still listening to Beth Orton. I finally moved away from "Central Reservation," and am now on the "Daybreaker" album, specifically the song "Paris Train." The haunting refrains "sometimes...sometimes...this was inevitable...this was inevitable" reverberating through the caverns of my ears.

Some things won't be redeemed. Not that they cannot be, but they won't be, not to our satisfaction, anyway. As a Christian, I believe that God can make all things new, that ultimately, he always will... but in terms of the practical applications of redemption in the here and now, well, sometimes (often) we don't get back lost opportunities and relationships, we can't take back the mistakes... I don't intend to be a downer, but I've been pondering this idea for a few days now. In any case, it seems fitting to me that some things are irretrievably lost if they are lost at all. It underscores the significance of them.

Thanks to Paste Music, I have discovered Beth Orton and a host of other appealing musicians. In the next few weeks, I'll be purchasing from iTunes quite a bit... but, thanks to BMG which is still occasionally helpful, I got three Orton CDs for a very reasonable price.

Breakfast this morning is an unhealthy cherry turover with unsweetened tea. I was out on Friday and to my surprise, there isn't much in the way of work crowding my desk. I'm going to take advantage of the small pile and get some much-needed momentum.

Catherine and me at her cousin's wedding

Prickly!

Nothing like waiting more than half an hour for a connection bus in freezing temperatures. Makes one suscpetible to being in a crap mood. I'll admit it. Sometimes I am downright prickly. This is one of those times.

I am bummed, in addition, because I will be doing homework tonight instead of attending the office party--and I'm finaly in a place where I truly and genuinely like everyone with whom I work closely. They're fun and the closest I've come to that tight knit group scenario in years. It just seems categorically wrong that I won't be there. But I have to do what I must. Grad school is my priority and that should be reflected in all the choices that I make.

So, blogging community, I have a challenge for you. I have decided that I really want to meet the guy for me in 2006. Help me out. I am willing to be set up. So there. I've said it.

Also:

Mackenzie Astin, who continues to frequent the One World, is grasping at straws. He is clearly disenfranchised. After the movie last night C and I went there (I hadn't eaten; I ordered a grilled tomato and cheese and a hot chocolate), and there he was. yet again. He's struck up an apparent flirtation with one of the waitresses. He seems, by turn, to amuse her and annoy her.

On this particular sighting his father, John Astin, came in and joined him. They seem to have a sweet relationship. But Mack was like a little boy in some ways. He was wearing his desperation like a sweater.

It's clear to me whenever I see him that he feels like he's supposed to know me, but can't quite figure out how. I, along with Sarah and another friend of mine (also named Sarah) had a very pleasant encounter with him at the One World about a month ago...

What is up with Keira Knightley's Mouth,Anyway?

C and I drove through pleasantly snowy conditions to the Charles yesterday evening, arriving at about quarter till 7 for the showing of Pride and Prejudice. Having so recently read the book,the plot was fresh in my mind, and it was readily apparent what was condensed, what was omitted, etc. Not yet having seen the version (BBC) that made Colin Firth famous, I have to say that I appreciated this one very much. C is going to lend me the miniseries version on Wednesday. Perhaps I will have a clear favourite after I've viewed that one. In any case, I thought that the casting of Jane in this fresh, more compact depiction was on point. Keira Knightley did a credible job, for the most part, but I did wonder about the sporadic giggling outbursts, and also she has a weird mouth. Other than that, I wasn't terribly bothered by her performance.

Now then. On other points. The best way to mitigate an impractical crush is to tell yourself that the object has a significant other whom you have met and very much like, even if this is not the case.

As is usually the case on Sunday evenings, I had trouble falling asleep last night. To ensure that I had something to do other than laying in the dark stressing myself out thinking about how restless I was, I decided to watch Mr. Arthouse Cinema's latest offering, City of Lost Children. It was surreal, weird, fun, and touching. I also finished McCauley's True Enough. The film ended at about 1:40 a.m., but I was still wide awake. I turned out the lights and tossed and turned for at least another hour.

I did begin work on the final version of my short story for the Modern Fiction class yesterday evening, but it's a long way from being finished. Have decided not to go to the office party this Thursday night. Need the time to revise poems, final assignments, etc. I've had a coworker tell me that he's not sure he'll go now since tales of my inebriated escapades from last year are why he was so psyched to attend this year. :) Fortunately, another coworker is throwing a party that some of us can attend, so I hope that one will be excellent (in that the people I'd most want to spend time with will choose to attend).

Had an excellent workout yesterday and was looking forward to going again tonight but just remembered that I have an engagement. Am going to see the Keira Knightley Pride and Prejudice with a fellow Janeophile at the Charles.

Got together with E last night. Did an art gallery "walk" in Fells Point. We only did two of the spots on the tour (free wine, sangria, and heavy hors d'oeuvres) then headed over to Little Italy for Fried Calamari.

Mr. Arthouse Cinema (my young coworker) gave me another film assignment. I'll try to watch that tomorrow once I'm back at home. I'm hanging out with Sarah and a friend of hers today. I am also determined to revise poems for my portfolio tomorrow, which means I'll have to tear myself away from this.

More substantive posts coming, I promise...

I've done no Christmas shopping of any kind...

Not that I don't plan on it, mind you, because I do... plan on it. Sometime around December 15th. The payment/distribution of my income toward bills won't really allow me to start much before then most years. The difference this year is that most of my friends and family are getting gift cards from me. So there won't be any kamikaze trips to the mall that are rife with pushing, shoving morons indiscriminantly grabbing up anything in a shrinkwrapped basket. I can't bear it. And for those for whom I am not getting gift cards, I really want to support local shops in Hampden, Fells Point, and the East quadrant of the Harbor area near my job by finding suitable treasures in those places.

December promises to be frenetic. I have a poetry portfolio to put together and a final short story to write before I can bid this semester a fond adieu. So somewhere between forays to the cinema, holiday parties (not Christmas parties mind you. Everyone throws "holiday parties" now. I would be so impressed if anyone had the moxie to be like "I'm having a Christmas party. Wanna come?"), and visits with friends I have to get cracking. Those things are both due week after next. Maybe tonight after this function I'm attending (free wine) I can do some late night writing.

I told you he would get even more annoying...