I’d like to make a list of things I want to do before I get too old to do them.
- start a collection of vintage hats {and wear them frequently}
- publish a short story {somewhere, anywhere}
- get a rockstar NGO job
- buy a french bulldog puppy
- learn to speak Hungarian {the language of my heritage}
- finally become stylish {and lose enough weight for it to work}
- get back in touch with the friends from high school/college who meant so much to me
- get over my hatred of New York
- live near the pacific ocean, preferably in a blue house (don’t ask.)
I wanted to make this list because I’m not feeling well… for a number of reasons I think but basically I’ve been feeling crappy - tired, achy, generally crummy for the last three days or so, and lists like these remind me of things to be happy about and look forward to.
I had coffee (for 2 hours, thank you Woody Allen) with my best friend (for whom I put that reference up) this afternoon in Georgetown and it was wonderful. And last night Liz’s friend came over, dressed as Indiana Jones, complete with whip and cowboy hat, and it was great. Indiana Jones with ridiculous Southern accent. I told Liz the other night that I’ve got a year on her on this whole ‘growing up’ thing and the only thing I have figured out that I have learned is that the only thing we have is the people we know. Friends and lovers and the crossovers in between the two. Lovers who are friends and the friends we fall in love with. I think I learned this from the people I that I slept with accidently in my somewhat desperate search for this lesson, which is, strangely and beautifully and luckily for me the way I found my best friend, and also the very painful way I learned the lesson overall.
It’s not the money, it’s not the jobs we get (though those things, I can’t deny, are important - as I check my job postings six times a day *sigh*) - it’s the people we know, our own personal global networks. It’s the text messages I get from my friend in Portland saying “Happy Halloween, hobag!” and Facebook messages I get at midnight my time from South Korea from an old old friend whose value to me I can’t even begin to articulate. It’s Liz coming home from work and giving me a hug, asking how my day was. It’s coffee for 2 hours, and beer with Indiana Jones. It’s “hey, how are you?”
Somedays there isn’t much that gets me through my days. But there are some things that never fail. And that’s one lesson I’m glad I learned, no matter how painful the process was.
November 2, 2007 at 1:59 am
Your title reminded me of D.H. Lawrence, “Sons and Lovers.”
I’ve never read it. But I’ll be damned if it doesn’t sound pretentious, so I’ve, um….read it.
Oh and yeah we had a wacky time at Tombs…sorry about the game. It was 2-0 when I lost my sobriety beyond the point of paying attention. But it sounds like we got fucked.