An Idea

Paper Idea? From the monarchy book... Looking at ritual as language and being unable to deconstruct that language-- no-- not being able to speak of the idea without the language. Then when the political events don't line up with the abstraction it can't be explained. (Is this post-structuralist?)

Go for the Bold

See... This is how B changed me. This morning I was so hesitant to put that jacket on. Ifelt like it was too much for someone like me. That I would look a joke in it. But that's him. That's how he sees it when he sees me as a part of him. I knew it would get me attention and it did-- big time-- in a really nice way.

I need to come back to myself and to satop being afraid of being seen. He's not here anymore, but I still am. Why is it so hard for me to hate him for what he's done to me? Where is the "off" switch on my heart?

(Don't forget today... Listening to Mary J.)

Smoking Latte

Montaigne (Quoted in "The Scientific Revolution by James Jacob, pg. 37):

"I... remain where God put me. Otherwise I would not know how to save myself from endlessly rolling."

********************

I don't know why I'm so fucking tired today. It's so frustrating because I can't get my work done like this. I already did nowhere near what I should have done this morning. I'm sitting in Starbucks on Broadway and 102nd street. The faded plum velor on these chairs is exactly the color I want for my couch. I have to find out where to buy a large unfinished wood coffee table sized trunk that I can paint. I can see the whole thing in my head, so I hope it works out.

I never knew it was going to be so much hard work to move!

There is a cute guy sitting a few tables diagonally behind me. He keeps looking at me, but I can't turn to look at him because it would be horribly obvious due to the angle.

This vanilla latte is so delicious! It really tastes like toasted marshmallows.

I had a weird voice lesson today. I mean, it was a really good lesson, but it was weird because an accompanist was there. I wonder if he thinks I'm just a baby beginner or if my voice sounds decent. It's funny... just last night at choir rehearsal I felt so confident-- like I am the best singer in the world. How much would I love it if I could make a career of singing!

There is a large billboard outside the window here with a picture of a coffin and the caption: "Cigarettes are killing you." I'm so pissed off about Bloomberg's anti-smoking crusade. How can you outlaw smoking in bars? I just don't want the government regulating my health. It feels totalitarian.

Anyway, I should stop procrastinating and try to do a little more reading...

"Thank You" (for Nanny)

Thank You

Thank you for your life
For your love
For your memory.
Thank you for giving us the strength of memory.

You have taught me to keep them close
Know my home
That I'm safe there
I have seen your pride and known myself.

Into silvering shadows goes your light
You always sparkled and brought brightness everywhere
I know you wanted what was best for us
Were always watching out for us
And now you will watch over us
And I will keep you near.

But we must say goodbye (goodbye, goodbye)
And wish you peace in heaven
You were so strong
You fought so hard
You loved your life
And we loved you

I'll tell my children of your red and golden spirit
Of your triumphs and your travels everywhere
Your favorite words will be on their lips
They'll know you, although you are not there.

But we must say goodbye...

Thank you for your life
For your love
For your memory

Thank you.

Thank you.

Seeking Inspiration

In the history department "waiting room" with the elegant professor whose name I don't remember because the door to the department is locked.

My head is echoing from playing the CD player too loudly on the ride up here.

I desperately want to write a song for Nanny, but I don't know where to start. The problem is that she was not sappy at all, so writing a song will be hard. Another problem is that I don't have a working keyboard at the moment, so it will be kind of difficult to work on it.

I hope I can get a piano soon!

Anyway, I'm trying to think of themes...

I Miss Her

I miss Nanny already. It's going to be weird to see her on Saturday, knowing she is dying for real.

I hate how fragile everything is... including me! What can I lean on if the foundations can cave away?

I have been thinking about her life a lot. Since when did the past get to be so long ago? What will happen to our family? To my grandpa? Will my mom be okay? How can it be that my kids will not know here? How can it be that I am their memory for a world that is passing?

I love her.

I love my family.

I hope my mom knows how much I love her. I feel bad about that fight we got into that night at Macy's when we were shopping for bridesmaid dresses for BigSis...

Professor B

At ----- watching B teach. He is such a cutie! It's not as weird to be here as I thought it would be. He seems pretty natural up there. My head is kind of spinning. I think I had too much coffee today. Funny how the stuff used to never effect me...

(Empty dreams)

(Who else is living their life by a Hollywood fantasy standard?)

(What is real love like?)

Learning to Write

Later, and in Starbucks. I think it will be good for me to write again so that writing comes more naturally when I have to write my papers. I am so fucking stressed about that. I have no idea how I'm going to write a 10 page paper and a 5 page paper this weekend. I guess I just have to do what I have to do...

I am excited about decorating the new apartment, but in a stressed sort of way that is gnawing at the back of my head. I bought a gorgeous magenta velvet fringed table covering at Urban Outfitters today (before getting my arms waxed).

I also wonder about war with Iraq. I am afraid at the instability of the world.

Tonight BigSis and I are going to the movies to see White Oleander. I am looking around at all the people here and realizing that I love being a New Yorker.

This latte tastes delicious-- like toasted marshmallows!

Another Day

Another day of indecision...

Hunger unfulfilled
Pages unread
Weather not experienced
Life unlived

And except for the hunger gnawing at me (and the creeping dizziness), I wouldn't care.

West Side Gray

Something muted in my head told me to write today. But it remains muted (waiting for blueberry pancakes).

The corner here is gray and the restaurant lights float like greenish gold orbs reflected over the creeping traffic. Even the sky is smoked... And I? I am tired today... in an "early eve of Winter" kind of way. Resigned to the dullness after the excitement of memory last night.

B and I are a reminder of all things possible that will never be realized. My mind finds comfort crawling to those corners.

Today is a navy blue sweatpants day. But I am in jeans.

I found a lot in the library today-- dusty paths that may never go further. (More kinetic, no-- I mean "potential" energy and dust...)

People keep stopping to read the menu posted outside the window near my head. They hover into shadows on my hops and I feel tickled with paranoia and suffocated.

6:00 PM

The sky is still gray. Muted. Muted as my thoughts, as my dreams for the future and shadowed even as the cobwebbed trails of the present.

Pancakes have arrived!

New Journal (The Confessor)

From The Twenties, Edmund Wilson

"Beside the read stood the dry skeletons of Queen Anne's vanished lace; the bleached crests of the thistles had commenced to scatter and the milkweed pods were splitting and strewing the air with spun silver. The air, which was not yet harsh with winter filled the throat like cold wine. And though the golden vesture of the tress had begun to wear thin and dull, they gave the landscape everywhere a toned and faded richness. At night, the frosty moon filled up the world, as if by some liquid, with a bluish gray light which just seemed to bring out the green of the grass with a faint silver luminosity, and, int eh morning, one saw on the fields the whitish bloom of the frost."

Soul Pain

Don't forget--

If he never meant to hurt me, why isn't he stopping?

If I matter to him, then why didn't he offer to take down that stupid profile, stop meeting women in my apartment and let this heal for a while?

If he loves me, why is he going to continue to do something that hurts me?

God, I want to ask him that so badly. I want to ask him, but I also want to heal, and I'm not sure what good asking him that would do.

Today is awful. I haven't been able to breathe from the moment I woke up. The Tube was unbearable and I don't want to get back on. But I have too much shit to carry to keep looking in the Museum.

I feel like my soul hurts-- something at the core that is just radiating the pain out in rings to every other part of me. But at the same time, I feel empty-- like I don't even have a heart. My heart is with him still and he's ignoring me. Not even the tiaras made me happy. I feel so desperately alone without him. Dr. G. said to think about what went wrong, but I don't know what I did wrong!

I loved him with everything that I have. I feel like killing "us" is the same as killing me and I feel myself dying inside. This pain feels like the pain of dying and it won't let up. Not even for as second... And I can't breathe.

You're still here
Beside me every day
Because I know you by heart.

One of the reasons this is so unbearable is because when I'm with people, I have to hold everything in and the tension chokes me. When I'm alone, the tears and the pain overwhelm me.

What He Said

"Hi. I am so very sorry it's ending like this too. I've made too many mistakes to mention, so I'd just like you to know that I never ever meant to hurt you. I have never and will never knowingly disrespect or hurt you. I care so much about you. I worry how you're doing over there. It breaks my heart thinking that you're alone with--"

Scammed!

So, I guess I need to start organizing my thoughts for my "hand-in" journal, but I'm still not sure exactly what I want to say. I suppose I should first catch up with what's been going on.

On Wednesday after class, I set out to walk towards "Jack the Ripper" territory, but I was not very organized and only got as far as Holborn. I walked from there to Covent Garden where I went into a bar across from the Royal Drury Lane Theater to wait for Tipu. There, I met a Scottish guy named David who cried and convinced me to give him money. I feel like a moron and part of me wants him to stand me up on Sunday while part of me really wants him to show.

Anyway, after that, I saw My Fair Lady, which was great, but I thought Eliza could have been a better singer. She wasn't so good singing over her break.

Yesterday we went to Greenwich --to the Maritime Museum and the Observatory. It was a nice trip, but the weather was too gray. Jackie Chan was there filming some movie...

Oh-- lunch is here. I will pause to eat. (And to read a little Robinson Crusoe!)

Heartbreak

Dear B,

I am laying here reading in bed, tyring to read and aching from how much I miss you. I am listening to Lord of the Rings and it made me remember our recent trip to Sunnyside. I don't know how I can be happy without you when I was only ever happy with you. You don't know how much I wish you were here and how I feel choked with tears. I wonder if you are thinking of me at all and what you meant when you said "goodbye."

love,
ig

Arrival in London

So, here I am in London, with the overwhelming urge to write again. And I can only suppose that it's because I've lost B. Or, at least because he's not here for me to talk to, and as far as I can tell, no one here is on exactly the same wavelength as I am, although they all seem very nice.

I am sitting here inside a Starbucks inside a Borders and feeling kind of guilty about it. But, it's not entirely my fault. I needed to find both a bathroom and a place to sit and read Heart of Darkness and I knew this place would offer both.

Class this morning was really so interesting (although I don't feel like repeating the ideas right here) and I think I am going to really enjoy it, except for the part about applying it to our curriculum. I'm not really sure I understand how to write a curriculum still, and that task seems rather daunting.

I feel like I want to and need to spend a lot of time on this trip alone-- wandering and reflecting and exploring the parts of London that I want to see at my own pace, but I don't want to be anti-social. I think it's going to be hard to find the right balance.

I miss B so much that it's like a dull, deep ache in me and I just want to curl up in his arm and let go of these tears. But somehow I doubt that I will ever be able to let go of these tears.

London is the city most like NY that I've ever been to. I think I expected it to more like Paris... more like my own preconceived notions of "European." But we have taken so much from British culture and they from us, that it's quite understandable how the lines blur.

One other interesting point is that I'm not sued to being "othered," whereas here, anything I say gives away the fact that I am not just a foreigner, but specifically an American. It's strange to wear such a tangible and identifiable identity marker. I can't say that I sand out visually though. There are all ethnicities and fashions here...

Anyway, I need to do a little reading and the ice cubes in my coffee are melting, so I will close for now...