Goodness. It would appear I have not blogged since moving.
What must my public think??
Hello, old friend.
I have gone through a kind of metamorphosis. I am in what I am calling: Phase 2.0. Long gone are the days (nights, rather) of me walking from the law firm to the bar to order a Negroni, unpack my backpack and retire at "my spot" in the corner. Today (actually: night, still) I am sitting in my / our apartment / the apartment he signed the lease for before he even reconnected with me and before we had any idea we would ever actually be together (this is so wild, this thought. For another time). He sleeps in our bedroom, in our bed. A favorite, easy song by Tash Saltana strums quietly from my charging phone. A teacup - mass-produced, but beautiful - happily emptied (still warm) of its Earl Grey contents. (Black. A sensible amount of white sugar. Two pours, one brew and one teabag - the first cup stronger and hotter than the second.) I feel warmth from the tea. From the blanket and stuffed animal by my side. From the peace that only true safety can bring. I am wearing whatever I want, leaving my phone and purse at my seat when I get up to use the restroom and most assuredly not looking over my shoulder. My beverages have been paid for before I even sit down and possibly most convenient of all: when I am tired (or simply done): I will walk from my seat to my bed and sleep. The walk will be warm. No one will bother me or even see me. I will be home.
I forget if I have covered this already, but I would be lying if I said that I didn't have some concern over re-adopting old habits I no longer cared for / had (at one point) successfully grew out of. Coming back into town, I mean. Habits that I would categorize as "not cute" as a 35-year-old. But! So far so good. I have organically reconnected with some people that influence me in only the best of ways. Some from work, who show me stability and reality (and the importance of making a big deal out of Casual Friday). Some from downtown who show me how to enrich my days simply / effectively and how to look out for my community. And some from my family that show me how dynamic and beautiful people can be and how to slow down. (Not to mention I have never drank so little! It's healthier, better for my brain and it's saving me money, which I naturally adore.)
I miss my babies in Rochester who gave me my childhood / teenhood / twentyhood experience that I certainly am better off knowing / experiencing. They made that city feel like my neighborhood; like any one of their homes was just a quick walk around the block. Just a bike ride away (and I don't even know how to ride a bike!). They taught me how to be young and adventure and take advantage of what you have. I am forever grateful for all of this.
I remember writing something in my last blog that pondered on whether or not I would miss my Rochester apartment building. Survey says: yes and no. I only miss the building because it led to my pocket of the world. The place where I would calmly and quietly read or write. The place filled with art and scents and items that I found to be lush and beautiful. The only place that was inherently "me". It is less of the actual items / products / physical building and such that I miss / more of the intention and feeling of it all. And even then: do I miss it? Or am I simply looking back on it fondly? Am I simply grateful / glad that I had it? I don't long for it. And certainly want nothing to do with it if it meant giving up anything I have now. What I have now is gold. Better. (What's better than gold? Ah, yes: this.)
I think: I miss my peeps. I loved my place. It was great. I am happy to be home. Scheduling chiro appointments, coffee dates and looking up things like "how many cups of tea is too much?"
SPEAKING of scheduling things: it hasn't all been exciting doctor's appointments. Already this year (since coming back) N/he has taken me to the local opera house to experience my FIRST OPERA (Aida! It was incredible). We also went to see Tom Segura (a slightly different experience from the opera, but still exciting) and we joined our gorgeous friend for a romp at a fantastic rented cabin (nothing spooky happened, which I am simultaneously grateful for and bummed about / would've made great writing material). We've been to countless beautiful restaurants on the water / in adorable towns (thank God he's good at finding them, because I gotta tell ya...). And to cap it all off: we are going to see Eddie Izzard in October!! UNREAL. I have learned his stand up, scoured pawn shops and record stores (and eventually: the internet) for his material. I have impersonated and quoted him relentlessly (sorry, Ma). I quoted him on this blog! I am sure of it. I can't believe it. The best part? N is going which means: we get another adventure / travel together. ^.^
Got my best friend, E, to travel with to our sweet baby's wedding, soon, too! (I am so happy for baby H. I want to buy her everything. Multiples of everything. At least six woks.) E and I are also going to Southern Maine in October to see Bob the Drag Queen - one of our absolute favorites! (Should I wear the jacket that I customized with one of her quotes? Would it be too on-the-nose?) Feels like we just got back from seeing Bianca Del Rio, for Pete's sake. I am certainly getting SPOILED this year. And loving it!
I have done it. I have reached a point where nothing is missing. It's incredible. It's everything you think it would be and more. It's a bunch of the best feelings you have ever had all at once. (You know what happened to the boy who got everything he wanted, don't you??) The thing no one tells you about is: once you are gifted with the best life ever imaginable / you get everything you have ever wanted / longed for is, you enjoy every damn lick of it while simultaneously experiencing a low hum of dread and quiet anxiety, thinking something akin to: 'this is not my beautiful wife'.
Don't get it twisted, sister: this is a small peril I will gladly live with / through to keep what I have, now. And I desperately hope the retired alley cat in me will keep me on the straight and narrow. Popping in every once in a while to remind me what life used to be like and to not take any of this for granted.
