random thoughts, really

The water heater's being fickle again. It always starts the same way. Whenever there's a relatively large group here someone feels compelled to close that door (the one the water heater is behind) and we don't notice until the water doesn't get hot. I need to make a fucking sign. I meant to do that after work, but I forgot and became hell bent in other directions. Mainly making my grandma's recipe for rice crispy bars, which involves peanut butter, chocolate and butterscotch. Yum! Plus I had the apartment to myself til after ten which meant I got a couple days worth of playing in. I worked on some new stuff, further into Pier Gynt and a book of popular classics with some really stunning Waltzes by Shubert. Edward Greig is interesting, his style is unlike anyone else, it is quiet, slow and at times escalating to supreme intensity, but mostly slow, and paced. But the melody is so unusual, mostly mournful, but with these peculiar arrangements that become beautiful as a whole, so beautiful, haunting.

I watched Dummy again. I think it's about all these people that live so small and make these tiny steps that feel momentous. I guess I relate to that. Someone who lives small and revels in tiny steps. I always end that movie feeling so proud of Fanny's character in particular.

I often wake up in the night and have some skewed sense about where I am, something dreamlike I guess. And the attributes of my room that constantly surround me suddenly seem foreign and indescribable, like they come from someplace I've never been and evoke mysteries I've never captured. A necklace dangling beside my bed, the wooden vines above my head covered in icicle lights. One time in particular I reached out to touch that necklace and I kept running my hands over it because I was convinced it was this incredible treasure with all these unique characteristics like something found in a dream that finally came back with me, and so I ran my hands over it, believing, until it's reality came through to me, until I truly recognized exactly what I was touching, and it was familiar, not new, not special... The high ceilings put me in an odd head space, a bit like being warped. Especially lying on my back. I think the small space of my room adds to the odd feeling, after all my room is taller than it is deep or wide. The largest area of my room is above my head, like I'm sitting in a deep box. Half expecting a large hand to reach in and pull me out. It screws with my perception in a couple ways, the positive one being the room seems more spacious because of the high ceilings, hurrah for that.

Jonus has a very warm smile, like he is deeply pleased to see who ever he's smiling at. And he is very generous with his smile.

Time for bed, after all, I probably have a cold. Sigh.

Been a while

I've felt different this weekend from perhaps every other since I moved here (or at least since I started working for Jonus). I went to the Roebling tea room tonight to read and eat and just be out of the apartment for a while. I wasn't sure if they'd be open late, but what i didn't anticipate was they were geared towards dinner which means low lighting, very low lighting. I pushed two little candles up against my book and that was good enough. Despite the dark atmosphere no one is actually quiet. Which I would expect darkness to inspire. Never does. But I enjoyed it all, the noise, the darkness, the presence of so many people. I just needed that tonight. I spent my whole day on the couch making a painting. I feel like I did something else too, but I can't think of anything. My first foray from the apartment was a simple escape onto the roof. I kind of hoped it would be raining, I love rainy weather and I felt like I'd holed myself up in the apartment away from it all today and I wanted to be in it, around it, something. I had a rather nice interaction with my next door neighbor (on the left). Scott. We talked about compost, pests that destroy vegetable plants and the state of the economy. God, it's nice to have real conversations. I was crushing a little bit this weekend. Weird situation. John's friend Reny has been in and out of town over the last two or three weeks and when he is here, staying in our apartment, this guy Chris ends up being around a lot. It's intriguing and flattering to have someone react with interest the moment they meet you and make no bones about showing that interest. Disarming indeed. Chris did that the first time he met me. I can't say I was interested at first, just intrigued and curious. But his pointed attention each time I continued to see him did disarm me and attract me. Maybe there is something in the idea that woman want to be desired? Not that it works in all cases. But we had a very stimulating discussion about religion, belief and what he describes as anti-theism which I think is an excellent way of stating atheism. The funny thing is how long it took John to notice. Maybe what it took was seeing me respond to Chris, because some guy paying attention to me is insignificant until I pay attention to him. Day after day Chris spent his time in the apartment beside me, paying attention to me instead of any of his friends. When it finally stood out to John he looked at me and repeatedly said "No" and that was all. "Not that one." "I know him and I know you and it's No." Chris didn't fail to clearly impress upon me his character. I knew with out deliberation he was not the kind of guy I could date. I think I just wanted to have that fuzzy feeling and entertain the idea of kissing someone. What gets me is how I could go from feeling no form of desire for what seemed like a month to suddenly being full of it. I did suspect the absence had something to do with mild depression. I don't know, I don't know if I'm not depressed now or what, but I can't look at a guy right now without thinking "could I?" "is he sexy? kissable?" I just kind of wish there were some feasible guys around me. There's always something that makes the prospect a bad idea, neighbor, coworker, questionable friend on John. John told me there is only one friend of his I would be allowed to date. One is a bad ratio, a poor reflection on the relational quality of John's guy friends.

My compost bin is totally waterlogged from all the rain and I have no drainage holes in it. Composting on a roof presents many challenges. I was thoroughly frustrated that I couldn't play piano today. It was one of those days when i really needed it. It just worked out that some wasted person was always sleeping here. They take it in fucking shifts. One wakes up in leaves just as another shows up to crash. Maybe I should have a totally fuck-you attitude and play anyway... But I can't. It just feels good to think about it. God damnit!

I found flowers on the street. A whole bouquet just sitting on the sidewalk, on my block, when I was returning from the tea room. Still good. Sitting in the misty rain. Not sure what that was about, but I brought them up to our apartment and put them on the new table that John bought from the people on the second floor who are moving out. Gorgeous table. I should go to bed. I stayed up late all weekend, because it was in me to do it, but now I need to transition back into early nights. It's better.