Lucy's Spleen

In the Waiting Room of My Brain

Stan has been traveling for all or part of four out of the past four weeks, visiting grad programs in several states. The last two trips have been the most epic, both for the fact that the two programs are each incredible and that the two trips were squished up right next to one another with a mere twenty-four hours squished in between. Also, this very last trip- to Massachusetts- has been particularly intense, due to the distance traveled, the planned brevity of  the visit  (just one full day to visit campus and do all the necessary meets/greets, etc.), the tremendous anticipation leading up to it and the looming due date for major decisions to be made and replies submitted to all the programs (this Sunday- ack!). So of course the natural thing to happen would be for the airline (United and I are not speaking to one another at the moment) to fuck up Stan's flight arrangements, delay him for a full day- with nothing even approaching an apology and few expressions of optimism, much less promises, with regard to the prospect of getting him back home again- such that he spent no fewer than four hours at the airport yesterday and a full NINETEEN hours today in airports or on planes trying to get back home to get his shit together.

Needless to say, I am very happy to be heading out to the airport now to retrieve him. I've been tidying and laundering and such all evening in preparation for his arrival, pleasantly humming to myself as I putter; but not until an hour or more into it did I realize what tune it was:

"I'm working my way back to you babe..."

Big News

Allow me to fascinate you with news of my exciting life!

For example, I'm wearing these really uncomfortable socks today! I have a stye! I tried my first homemade marshmallow! It was tasty, yet somewhat texturally reminiscent of swallowing semen! (No I don't think I will have another piece, thank you! No no, save my piece for someone else to try- SERIOUSLY.) I accidentally wore my shirt inside-out for almost the entire day yesterday! I'm moving to California in less than three weeks!

Oh, sorry- had I forgotten to mention that last thing before?

I've been wanting to make the announcement for a while, but haven't been able to figure out quite what the method of delivery should be. Finally I decided to just, well, you know- say so. So there it is!

I am moving to California to live with the man who, on our first date last January, prepared for me the rarest steak I've ever eaten. On this site he has been called "Date Guy," but now and henceforth I'm giving him a better name which will be "Eazy!" Can you even keep up? I don't know what I'm going to do for work! Or where we will live! Our new life will be great! We're way less strangers than we used to be! The second time Eazy and I cooked together ever was on my visit there two weeks ago! Somehow I feel sane and confident about doing this! Whoa!

The self-help book titles for my two main reasons for moving would be:

Long-Distance Relationships Just Don't Work

and,

U Have Got 2 GET A LIFE!

A large part of the point being that, while coffee shops and bakeries are fun gigs for a time, I'm thirty years old now,* and I want to do something worthwhile with myself. I want to do something that satisfies my interests, something that uses skills even beyond my special talent of Eating Many Pastry Items. I totally don't know what this thing is going to be, but I have a few ideas. Hopefully, and if I'm lucky, it will involve writing, event planning, perhaps a bit of fund-raising and perhaps a lot of schmoozing people. I want to do something that scares me a little, something that presents a challenge. And if you happen to know anybody who wants to write a letter of recommendation saying how up to the challenge I am, any and all submissions are welcome!

In other news...

There was a beautiful patch of sun(set)light on the wall of my apartment! I took these photos of our
silhouettes! See?   

"Tired of that piece of crap you're driving?"

Ira and Lucy.

"Are Poised to double?"

Just Ira.

"You will love this exciting game."

Lucy and me.

"Well well well Sir Emma, 150 types of pharmoze"

Just me. I really like this one.

* Not actually 30

Quatorze Juillet

Okay, catching up- quick!

My birthday! July 14th! Also Bastille Day! Which came first- me, or La Première République? See if the following clues lead you to the answer.

Here was birthday lunch with the goyls:

I love this picture because of our hands. Those are Teaspoon's down there on the bottom, creating order as they do; and that's mine up there pouring the dranks, of course. And with such purpose! Check out my index finger! So firm and steadying!

Speaking of the dranks, have you tried Tortoise Creek's Rosé D'Une Nuit? Check out the label: evidently those are little tortoises, but what with the beret and goatee and lipstick and glass of pink wine, don't you think they should really be frogs?

Okay, moving on. Dig Leaux's birthday pompadour:

I had a lovely afternoon, spent with my favorite people, them gals and them dogs. We ate and drank and took a little snooze and went swimmin'; so relaxing! Here are Nina and the angibals demonstrating how relaxed we were:

(P.S. the light through the window! Celestial! Did I forget to mention that Jebus stopped by to be all like, happy birthday yo? This picture proves it.)

And here's me demonstrating- well, something... I figure this picture was taken after we were pretty well into that pink wine. Maybe I'm trying to form a numeral with my tongue- three for 30, since that's what age I decided to turn. Chronologically I'm twenty-seven, but I figure I'll just start saying I'm thirty now, and keep on saying it for the next ten years or so. Economical, don't you think? And easy to remember! Anybody asks you how old I am, the answer's thirty. Thanks.

Here was the highlight of my day. Will you just look? Wow!

I know I posted that other (less blurry) image of these fleurs already, but I'm telling you, when Nina walked in the door with this arrangement from Date Guy I just burst into tears. It was the size of  our sofa, and look how glorious it was in our dining room! These flowers are the single reason Tiny and I decided we love our pink walls after all; saving me days of laborious painting! Thanks, Date Guy!

To summarize: good day, great friends, very hot, slightly drunk, beautiful flowers, turned thirty.

Not twenty-seven, it's THIRTY. Got it?

J-e-r-e happens to spell, "hurray."

Goin' Goin' Back Back to Cali Cali

Hello why am I not posting? Because I'm in California! Again! I'm visiting Date Guy! He sent me these flowers for my birthday! See? We must love him!

Wherein I Finally Get Around to Writing About the Rest of My Trip, Mainly to Shame Myself by Mentioning How Embarrassingly Sick I Got

And then...

• It became Friday night! We assembled, with the addition of a rather acerbic fellow I'll refer to as Bill (I was going to call him "Bile," but I'm thinking just "Bill" is a bit nicer), and, because I have a motto dictating that one should Never Arrive Entirely Sober and Sparky's motto is something more like Never Be Entirely Sober At All If You Can Help It, we got a little bit ready to go out at Date Guy's house, and then out we went!
• My three dates took me to a bar where everything was upholstered red and sexy. We took the (red-carpeted) elevator upstairs, which eliminated the whole pass-the-bouncers-get-your-ID-checked-pay-a-cover thing (do you have to pay a cover in California? Who knows? We didn't.), and rather enhanced our flair. The elevator doors opened, we strode out, and it was all happening for us; people were smiling, (red-upholstered) lounge seating was just offered right up, when the place was super crowded and no one should have been able to get a seat, Sparky and Date Guy barely had to jostle for a place at the (illuminated red) bar to procure drinks, while-
• Bill and I got to know each other across the table. It was an unusual conversation in that the topics that most enthused Bill were: Being All Alone in the World, Having No Family or Friends to Speak Of, and Dying Alone- Utterly, Utterly Alone. Yet at the time I found him quite enjoyable! Me and Bill: Best New Pals in Loneliness! Whatever! I was wasted!
• The boys came back with drinks, and then our server appeared. She had short red hair, she had a short red skirt, she had three fine metal circles going down her back in lieu of a complete shirt and she had a pair six-inch diameter thighs hugged in tall black stockings. She had all four of us from the moment we laid eyes on her. She said her name was Austen, after Prefontaine's grandmother or fiance or somebody, and we said let's take Austen along with us everywhere we go. Austen had money piling up on her tip tray in unholy volumes to ensure that she'd be coming back to our table again and again and again. She brought us drinks, she brought us olives, she stopped by just to say hello and probably made about fifty bucks for the effort, she gave us chocolate souffle and some girl came along asking for a bite of it and we gave her a bite and her eyes rolled back in her head cause it was sooo good and we LAUGHED! O the merriment! Have a bite of souffle how delicious of you! Have you seen our waitress? Ho ho here's some money! Give us a bite of your ha ha ha ha ha!
• Austen brought us many waters and then the bar closed and we stumbled out into the night and did not wind up taking her after all.
• We wound up at Sparky's studio where Date Guy performed some mysterious ramblings around in the yard while I put on some hit bossa nova selections and danced with Bill (who is probably better at dancing alone) and Date Guy was still away in the yard so I drank some whiskey and after Date Guy came in for a moment but went back out again (still mysteriously) I danced with Sparky for what seemed like a very long time and then at last came Date Guy really, at which point my memory gets all muddled and I have very little idea of what happened next so suffice it to say sometime somehow we arrived home again.* I'm sure of this because that is where-
• I spent the entirety of the next day vomiting.
• Except for a few episodes of fitful sleeping or laying there quietly moaning into my pillow.
• But you know what? Every time I opened my eyes (or just my one eye, usually), there was Date Guy fretting over me and saying "Sorry we broke you." He didn't leave my side the whole day. That was very nice of him.
• We had been fabulous enough. Once I recovered we spent the rest of my visit in a quieter, more intimate way. We did activities such as Just Hanging Around the House Together and were so relaxed about that and each other that I'd get a little shock from time to time realizing I have known this man for no more than two Hair Phases, which is practically no time at all, yet here we are so relationship-y, and wondering how that came to happen.
• I haven't figured out how yet.
• Per my request to "save something to do in your house so I can leave my mark on it," we shopped for some gear for Date Guy's home; and we went to the movies and out to eat, took a few walks, and drove around the gorgeous forested California hills and had a generally lovely time together, all the while with me thinking, "Wow! I could totally live here!"
• Not that that's in the works, so don't go getting any ideas...

The end.

• Oh yeah- then I came home, and it was hotter here than in California, and I wished to go back immediately.

The end. Really.

* I assume Bill also made it home- utterly, utterly alone.

Wherein I Start to Tell About My Trip to California and Then Discover It's a Bigger Effort than I Expected and Kind of Run Out of Steam and Leave Off After Recounting Only as Far as the Middle of the Second Day

I will tell you about my trip to visit Date Guy!

• I flew to California on Thursday with our (Date Guy's first, now mine, too) friend Sparky, who makes the trip all the time and whisked me through the airport without my having to so much as glance at a gate number. No matter how many times I fly, it's still novel and a bit overwhelming to me, but I couldn't believe how many people on our plane seemed like routine commuter-flier types. Just hop a quick flight! So easy! So breezy! One way in the morning, then head back in the night!
• We got off the plane and immediately went shopping! I'm not a big shopper, but it's a fun game to play with Sparky and Date Guy; they're fast and impulsive and whiz through the store calling out glib appraisal of this and that. Lame items receive no recognition; they are not merely dismissed, but looked over entirely as though they weren't there at all. Fabulous things are awarded varying degrees of homosexuality, as in "That linen shirt is pretty gay, I mean it looks good on you, but if you're only going to go with one thing in this store the tobacco pinstripe suit is just QUEER." This was when I got my first clue that this would be a Consumer Vacation.
• Sparky drove on the trip from the airport (via Nordstrom Rack) so Date Guy and I could sit in the back and hold hands. I kept noticing what I always notice when I go to California: the state IS it's own stereotype. California is so very Californian, which I find both hilarious and charming.
• We got into town and went directly to dine at this really nice wine bar. Our server was knowledgeable and gracious and actually loved her job, the owner was chatting up folks from behind the bar, Date Guy and Sparky were well-acquainted with the place (and it with them) and with barely perceptible nods and pinky waves they and the server would murmur a quick word of accord and delights of food and drink would appear before us; charcuterie and scallops and salmon and gnocchi and I had the duck and fava beans. As to the wines, all I can remember is mmm. There was a pink and a white and a red and another red and I have no idea what any of them were, though I may have known at some point before I started in on my third glass and quit trying to remember things. The meal and the service (and the architecture, while we're at it) and the subtle classy way my two dates attended to everything for me were all amazing, and what's more, the vine art high on the wall looked as though it spelled TITS! Spectacular! I was so romanced I didn't think I could get Date Guy home fast enough, but, suffice it to say, we managed.
• On Friday he and I went to the ocean. The (cold!) water was full of people and we watched the surfers, walked along the shore where I got to check out some of these (you can learn more about them here, but I like Stewf's photo best, and it's the way I witnessed them) and appreciated the water safety signs exclaiming, "can badly injure you!" and some strange graffiti scrawled on the rock face including a message of hope and guidance that is going on the front of one homemade t-shirt immediately that read: WE ARE ALL ONE MAURICE.
• We visited the tiny surf museum located right at the break and learned more than I ever knew I wanted to know about the history of surfing in California. While we were there a couple of older touristy-looking men came in and, watching a black and white circa-1950 film of wetsuitless pioneer surfers riding the famous break below, began saying things like, "Oh there's Ricky on the new board we had just made," and, "That's me dropping in late on that wave." Fully gnarly, bro.
• All this was interspersed with much kissing on the part of me and Date Guy and looking into each other's eyes and so forth and it was sunny and gusty and beautiful and I (exclaiming, "California, it's so- Californian!") felt very happy.
• Later on Date Guy and Sparky did a little surfing themselves and I watched from the clifftop and learned a bit of quirky local history from an old man with a brown sweater and long hair and a telescope. I had been intimidated by the size of the break we'd been watching earlier and opted out of getting wet myself, but after seeing that we'd be dealing with the kiddie end of the pool (and learning that wetsuits make you float! Who knew?) I thought "I will totally do this next time," and you can hold me to it because I WILL.

I finish up telling about it here.

Dear Date Guy;

Hey you. It's just over two weeks since you packed up your car and drove to California to start a new life there and I miss you. I missed you from the moment you left, since we had been spending so much time together and we were to the point of being just shy of me actually paying rent at your house and your leaving caused me to undergo a rather dramatic change of schedule right at first and all, but now I'm used to it. And now I really MISS you. I think of you and get all wistful put on angsty music and everything...

I miss the sound of your voice and the way you talk to me. I'd like to talk to you now; in fact I'll probably actually call you up in just a moment but first I wanted to write to you a little. So, in lieu of an actual letter, I'm putting up this post here on my website, because the thing is, even though I know you hate blogs, I am a [type who publishes her thoughts in a semi-syndicated form on a personal website on the Internet] and you knew what you were getting into early on, baby. Plus my writing to you here has been sort of a theme with us, and I kind of want to keep it up cause I'm cute that way, right? I'm theme-y.

So we're a bit of a funny pair. We don't live in the same place- that's a minor hindrance. You don't like blogs- I happen to maintain [an online diary of sorts that is available via fiber-optics and digital satellite to be read in any country on the planet]. You have an incessant need to listen to hip-hop music- and I LOVE that about you. And even though you don't like blogs I think that you just may like the fact that I keep [something that is like a blog but which I generally prefer not to refer to as "blog"]. And I know, whether it's because of or despite the fact that I keep a bl- er, website, that you love me either way, and I find THAT to be completely amazing. It is so unbelievable to know that you are out there and you love me. And because it is these modern times I can just call you up, right on the telephone! Or I can write you a letter! Or send you an email! Or hop on a plane and two hours later climb off it and SEE you, standing there, waiting to wrap your arms around me.

Can you believe that's what we're going to do? Isn't it wonderful? Seven days from now I WILL be getting on a plane and you WILL be waiting for me and I will brush my cheek against your cheek and I will smell the smell of you and look you in your eyes and press up against you and KISS you-I'll kiss you a LOT. Then we'll link arms together and get in the car together and drive to your new house together and fall asleep there together and my head will rest on your shoulder.

I just wanted to tell you I can't wait.

I don't know what our future will be- what will happen with our Long Distance Lovin'- but right now looks real rosy to me, and I can't wait to see you very soon cause I MISS you.

I'll talk to you in a minute.

Love,

em   

Outer Space: Plainte Retirée

Roger!

I take it all back! Cleaning out the closet just now I noticed that in addition to all that other crap I complained about, you also left me your comfy scrubs pants I like to wear so much! Did you do that on purpose? I bet not, but I'm still happy about it! Thanks!

The closet is clean and so are the dishes! I like our apartment! This is day two here by myself! Partly grey and partly sunny! That's the sky and that's my status! Have fun hanging out with my roommate!

Love, Em

P.S. As you can see I am stealing pictures off your computer to post on my website! Also I had Tiny Teaspoon take all your shoes to your sister's house! It was good talking to you on the phone the other day! You must get a website and start posting pictures of your new Argentinian life!

Dranks

I'd like to thank a few people who serve a veryr special role in my life, it's the same role, but each fills it a ltitle differently. This role is that of The Enabler. If this team of unique folk din't do it, who would?

So- a big fat shout out to:

• Sarah, for giving me the idea in the first plaec. The idea being to come home and make drinks my drinks myself this fine Friday night after one effing looong day of work.
• Elena, for turning me on to Monopolowa vodka, because it's cheap and it's good and I trust a Russian.
• Nina, for agreeing to come over for beers later when she gets off of HER long day of Werk (for Jerks).
• Bogart, for helping me feel that it's perfeckly okay to just grab the vodka out of the freezer and chug directtly from the bottle, if that's what you need to do at the moment.
• Mu mother, for telling me I can spell "perfeckly" however i damn well want to, thank you very much.
• Bogart again, for being named Bogart.
• Sarah! How them sugar cookies tasting in the bath? Friday night drinking at home alone! Yip!
• Roger, fro leaving that whiksey in the flask in the cubpoard.
• I'm talking about last night now, but does that rilly matter? I needied that wiskhey last night, and you came through for me, Rog.
• (Also ROGER CURSE YOU! For taking the martini shaker when you moved out! You left me many lovely accoutrements! You left me all the other silly needless gear that goes with the shaker! You left me that flask full of whiskey (how DID that get looked over, by the way?) You left me a closet full of your shoes, assorted keys to God-knows-what locks, and not one but two guitars, knowing full well that I don't PLAY the guitar, and then you up and packed the martini shaker! WHY!?)
• Date Guy! Hay how's California? I miss you! This is an announcement! I worked for fourteen hours today! I am slightliy tipsy! Did I mention i miss you? This is my new life! I will make another martini!

Okay thnaks to you all! Now I will go tear up the carpet! I'm fuckin' Bob Vila over here! Only wasteder!

Friday night!

Chrons!

The Lately

Yes I know this is a BLOG, and that what I am supposed to do is UPDATE it by, you know, WRITING shit, but I'm afraid that just doesn't seem to be working out for the Spleen these days. I feel slightly absolved by the fact that a number of bloggers I love have been similarly lax lately, posting less often or at less length or even less colorfully. Could the reason be that spring has sprung here in the northern hemisphere and folks want to spend their hours in the sun instead of the glare of the monitor? Yeah, right. That would be especially untrue of Spleenland, as we've seen nothing but rain for days and days and days and... Well, you get the idea. I'm about to begin plotting a move to sunny Seattle! Anyway I think I can handle the rain a little while longer; one advantage to all that staying indoors is how much sex you can have there! Yep, you read it right, and on that note, here are the headlines:

• Spleen and Date Guy Rekindle Romance Just in Time to Belt Out Swan Song.
• Coffee Shop Job to Phase Out. Employment at Bakery Practically Official.
• Move to New Apartment Scheduled, Postponed Due to Painting.
• Date Guy Moving Out of State. Swan Song Headline Explained.
• Medical Troubs in Family. Major Pynch.*
• Did We Mention the Part About Painting?
• Area Man Acquires Girlfriend Whose Nickname is "Christ." Relatives Approve.

In other news- hey! It was Mother's Day! Also it was my mother's Birthday- better known in our family as her Bidet! I felt like we under-celebrated you, mom! I wish less shit had been going on while it was your time! I would celebrate you all the days of the year! I hope you make some good money from your wagers on whether I'd get back together with Date Guy! Thank you for having faith in me and pointing out my abilities when I'm too scared to look for them! Thank you for giving me a love of language and playing with words! Thanks for the sense of humor- mainly the raunchy bits! And, to quote my brother**, "That whole birth thing? THANKS- I couldn't have done it without you."

I love you mom, Happy Daze.

Okay we're all caught up then folks, and it's clear I'm living in a fast lane of nothin' but Sex, Paint and Moms (oh yeah, and Christ). Moms, since we're talking about MY mom, is really just another word for Rock 'N Roll, and the Christ part makes it totally hardcore, though I admit it doesn't have quite the same ring without Drugs... but didn't we get enough Drugs in my last post?

Here two final headlines for today:

Rooms Still Being Painted. Fucking Unbelievable.

Weblog Updated. If You Could Call it That.

*To read about medical troubs, click here. Click here to figure out "pynch."

**Can you believe he's dating Christ? Awesome.