The Weeklies: The Past Few Weeks
When I finished posting about the UK and my birthday I lost my motivation to write. I penned Weeklies that were deleted, and found myself defaulting to fiction (a rarity for me, I know). But while not writing I've managed, by accident, to have the kind of fall I love -- weeknights full of art. It's a tradition I stole from my vile ex, who used to take me to late-night concerts at the Rose Building, films, and ballet and concerts at Carnegie Hall. Its an effective diversion from fall (I hate fall) and life (not so great) and feeling depressed (when am I not depressed?).
To recap: the last weekend of September, a friend stopped by for a coffee and a walk in Prospect Park. It was the last hot weekend. We found solace on a bench beneath a tree, leaves falling. I showed her "dog beach" (a lake only for dogs to swim in) and we walked back to Clinton Hill. She has a calming effect, the perspective of a wise, old soul. Talking to her made me feel more grounded. The very next day we went to Dumbo for early lunch with Alistair's relatives. We toured them through Brooklyn Heights, showing them all the picture-perfect brownstones. There were pumpkins on several of the stoops. The weather would turn more fall like that week. Light rains and jackets necessary in the mornings when it was windy.
Last week a friend invited me to one of the Fall for Dance performances, but fell ill the night of. My favorite moment that week was on Thursday night, standing on the stoop with him in Hells Kitchen, gossiping in a light rain. He gave me his tickets and instead I invited Alistair. I had some time before curtain and decided to wander midtown. I went to the food halls at the Plaza and ate at a Japanese restaurant and sat in bar seat facing a wall. The world seemed bright and the rain settled into my hair and made it wave at the root. It was my first moment alone in a long while.
I met with Alistair at City Center and we watched an amazing show. Fall for Dance typically mixes their programs with a lot of different companies from around the world. Our favorite was Dyptik, the hip hop company from Lyon. They seemed so happy to be performing in New York they put their hands to their hearts at curtain call, and like the sap that I am, I almost cried. We haven't gotten enough of "Fleabag" so last Friday night we went to the IFC to see the recording of Phoebe Waller-Bridge’s one-woman show (the one that started the TV show). We had Pho at a West Village spot not far from the theater. I was down the rest of the weekend. I didn't leave the house.
And what has happened in between October's ticketed events? Lots of Reddit. French lessons. I eat open-faced toast with peanut butter and jelly for breakfast with a double shot iced espresso with almond milk. I shiver when I wait for the bus. No one else does, I suppose I'm always cold. I listen to a lot of Sampha and James Blake and the soundtrack from "Brideshed Revisited" and if I need to perk up, Jacques Dutronc. I'm most bored at lunch, shuffling in a line of people staring at their phones, yelling an order, settling at my desk and eating with the wall. I dislike commuting home. I dislike calling home (Alabama). Thinking about dinner makes my chest tight (like: I can't make another decision or it'll kill me). I check my bald spots before bed, I have one at the crown and two behind my ears because of stress. My neck hurts every morning when I wake up, and I have dreams of being overlooked or of a rabbit that is overlooked and unfed. I wake up multiple times just to check my emails.