Contrapuntal

I think Kat and Matt are the only ones who actually read this poor dessicated blog, ever, but I did promise Kat I would do an update or two so she'd know where I was. So, here. Hi!

I'm in portland, OR. Back in the same coffee shop I spent so much time in during my little "emotional shivasana" time back in May/June 06. That was the time when I really sparked with F, really knew that there might be something between us -- so being back here has an inevitable aura of reflection about it.

So much distance traveled in those 18 months. And here I am, still working to finish this phd. My only real goal for 08. If I can put aside all of the angst about money (I feel like I've picked up my bank account and dumped it into the pacific in the past couple of months), and the what ifs what ifs what ifs about what might happen with me and F in the next year, re jobs, possibilities, hopes. Just, living inside the heads of my project participants.

F and I had a really lovely drive up the coast, from Malibu to Portland, between xmas and new year's. The start was perfect, to me -- his ex incredibly welcoming, his 6 y.o. breathtaking. So confident and innocent and hopeful and happy and strong. I feel privileged to have her even on the edge of my life.

The time here has been less perfect -- lots of jibber jabber about trying to get the heat started, the leak from the ceiling in the bedroom irritating, a topsy turvey set of plans for the weekend because of the storm in CA. I was supposed to be flying to the bay area right about now, to meet Linda, and then to drive down the coast to santa barbara for school. We had an idyllic time in Big Sur last year, and I was hoping to repeat it; F and I drove the same roads last week, but too much of it was in darkness, and I was hoping for a few moments on a beach. But I've gotten conservative in my traveling -- I have no desire to be trapped in a crappy hotel by a mudslide, much as I love Linda, and I opted to stay here and fly directly to SB on monday. So now, back into my work.

This week has been funny for work -- wrenched my way into my analysis, but it's not exactly ticking along. There's a little too much of the "this is kind of a holiday" feel about this, along with all of the distractions of gas companies, wanting to exercise, whinging about my bad knee, etc. So now, back into the words of other couples.

Just a few of the noises of the past week that represent this west coast trip...

Knock knock knock on the wall of the big sur lodge, interrupting the reconnecting time between me and F, after an amazing dinner at nepenthe. Same dude woke me up with his wall-penetrating snoring at 5:00 a.m. Tried to figure out what kind of person feels compelled to be *quite* so sex-negative; couldn't imagine. Imagined him fat and full of sleep apnea. Felt better.

Plonka plip plop splot into the bucket in the corner of my bedroom in this flat, as the wind caterwauls around the 8th floor glass walls. This flat, in microcosm; gorgeous, techno and unlived in, and untended. And tortuous as a splot all night long.

Clomp clomp clomp. Our boots on the metal stairs between the upper and lower levels, as we tried to figure out that damned heat. A woman from downstairs, quivering with earnestness, asking F to Please Be Quieter Because I'm Trying to Work. Me on phone, him explaining, asking for her advice about the heat. I get off phone and she persists in repeating her Indignant Request. I hiss at her, like a cat. Not much making friends, here.

The wind, lonely howls. I might as well be on the edge of an outcrop, facing into the bleak ocean. Grateful for the warmth of the duvet, thinking how much more I miss having someone there with me when there IS a someone I want to be with. When I was here before, and single-ish, I was content to be alone in this bed. Now, I miss my big human hot water bottle, warmth made flesh.

And now, to work.