Flowers

Today feels like one of those extreme surges of livelihood, where life brims with stimulation of all varieties and I couldn't be happier to be alive. I suppose it all began with the weekend. Friday Craig and I went to dinner in the rain at Blondie's, a very nearby sports bar with better-than-norm bar food. We were both exhausted so we ate (Craig ordered chili and I ate this buffalo chicken salad with chopped romaine and radicchio and buffalo sauce and ranch, and we shared cheese fries: not necessarily the healthiest meal but we deserved it for a Friday, right?) and returned home to attempt a movie (Brick), not quite making it through. Saturday I went for bagels and coffee for us (bagels are becoming a weekend staple...how am I ever going to eat a bagel outside of New York City? The City has the bagel mastered) and we watched an indie film I had reserved from the weekend before to watch with Craig, upon his request, Winter Passing. We loved it (I loved it - Craig doesn't commonly love my indie picks but he enjoys many of them quite thoroughly) and I now have an official girl crush on Zooey Deschanel. Additionally, the movie rejuvenated my blissful music appreciation and I am in the process of organizing one of my ego-trip power music mixes (I tend to think of myself as an accidentally amazing djay, even all the way back to the day of mix tapes). I have been waiting for the point where I had a mix ready that I could play as my First Year in New York soundtrack, and I think I'm onto something at last. After Winter Passing we headed out to run a couple of important errands, including (but not limited to) purchasing a London guide book (more to come on that later), go to Bed, Bath & Beyond for a new coffee pot (I don't know how we've been here this long without) and come back home for an afternoon and night in. I had bought another writing exercise book, as well, and so settled myself into the computer room (which I have lovingly dubbed my writing studio, but Craig has probably dubbed it his fantasy football update room, too!) to write a lot. I'm so new to the fiction writing experience that I could hardly see anything to come of my hours spent doing it, but I definitely kept myself entertained (while my boyfriend paid appropriate attention to football in the living room, of course!) In the meantime, I have been reading this incredible (seriously, unbelievable) collection of short stories titled This is Not Chick Lit. I am fairly decent at finding things for myself with good timing in play, as was the case with this anthology. One internet thing leading to another type of thing. Anyway, one internet thing led to another and here I am with this anthology, which contains a new Aimee Bender story (my favorite contemporary author). One more internet thing led to another and I discovered that the woman who compiled this anthology teaches writing courses in New York. From what I can tell, she isn't affiliated with a university, but she teaches small courses to which an aspiring author must apply with writing samples. I'm not sure I will be able to juggle full time work, a commute to and from Queens, a class and another class, so in the meantime I am taking her one-day workshop this weekend in SoHo! How exciting! I love the way my nerves get supercharged with anxious energy as I approach these things one by one. I'm such an amateur living in such amateur fashion, but it's all in the sake of figuring out whether I'm capable or not.*Anyway, yesterday we attended a barbecue in the honor of Jeff, who moved in with Lauren a few weeks ago (with Craig's help and my, um...supervision). Craig's famous family recipe burger came out (its second appearance in El Barrio) and as always, the hungry audience was impressed. There was too much drinking involved, followed by drunken discord at Lauren's keyboard which consisted, as usual, of her hammering out great piano and belting out her gorgeous voice, and me attempting a sloppy harmony somewhere in between. But it's great how Lauren is - she shares music with everyone, even those of us who are best left in the audience to be amazed by the Laurens of the world! We had a great time. I'm elated to be back in the presence of so much talent and inspiration.*Then today was my class. I loved it and it was only class 2. I'm a hopeless sentimental (and quite nerdy) romantic, but even just getting on the subway after work, devouring as much reading as possible before class, to ready myself for writing conversation...the whole concept of it delights me. I feel smarter living in this City than I have felt anywhere else. My opportunities are open and opening. I'm really happy here. New York makes everything so good. And then I came home and what greeted me when I swung open the door but flowers from my Craig? We have an ongoing joke about the flower thing - I'm not a flower enthusiast, but the occasional picture in my head of Craig ducking into one of the corner markets to buy flowers for me - that's what doesn't get old - that image of him with me in mind while I'm not physically right there. Again, I'm a romantic.*And a tired one. So off I go.