september 8 we could dive into suns though it's not recommended Saturday afternoon in Jackson Heights. I've finally discovered the one really negative thing about living in this neighborhood – the fact that friggin' airplanes from La Guardia are apparently allowed to shoot right over our buildings at 7:30 in the morning. On a Saturday. Guess what time I woke up today? Right now it's nice and quiet, and most of the time ole JH is just that, but those planes – I wonder if there's some sort of ordinance they're violating. These aren't little buzz boys personal jet type things, these are the big mamas carrying hundreds of individuals to their very important destinations. They make a lot of noise. And one is pretty magnificent; one every five minutes is not.
There is another negative to the neighborhood: We just had a gay bashing incident about a block from where I live. A few days ago, some guy was seen leaving a local gay bar called Friends, and a car pulled up to where he was walking on a side street. Some people got out, beat him up, killed him. The space outside where it happens is now crusted with melted candles from the pseudo-shrine that has sprung up. I'm not sure why people do that. Leaving flowers or posters or pictures or candles by the side of the road, by a fence, as close as they can get to the site of the death seems to miss the point. It also reeks of cheap sentiment, no matter how well-intentioned. These are the people who have posters that say "Hang In There, Baby!" with the cat dangling from the branch. On the other hand, I'm totally appalled by the level of anti-gay violence around here (apparently there's now a parade once a year celebrating the life of another unfortunate who was killed in the school playground). I don't even sense that we have a lot of gays around here (though clearly that's my gaydar being off), much less that we're all overrun and have to start clubbing them like baby seals. It's sickening. This is such a nice neighborhood, and the idea that some yahoo would beat some other guy who never did anything to him is just appalling. I think there's definitely something to the idea that people who are the most homophobic are the ones who are least certain of their own sexuality. Of course, that doesn't explain Anne Heche.
So after being awoken by screaming planes at 7:30 I managed to roll over and get another hour or so of rest (it is a moral thing – I do not get out of bed before nine on a weekend unless something very, very crucial is happening) and read some more of the last book in the Phillip Pullman trilogy I've rhapsodized about. I'm sad I'm almost done, but I can't stop compulsively reading. After a stop at the bank (I'm low! I'm low! Battled with More's coming! More's coming!) I headed out to AFAR, an organization that rescues animals as well as boards ones that have homes, and does training. New York Cares corralls volunteers like me to come by on weekends to walk the dogs. It's as close as I can get to having one now – I'm not home all that much and would definitely strain at having to come home straight after work each night to walk the dog. It sounds selfish, but it would be very easy to get the dog and then just ignore it most of a day. I'll get one eventually. Just now now. So I tool this Dobie/Shepard mix named Lady around. She was a real pretty little thing, brown muzzle, sleek black back. Didn't do a number one or two, as you think she would, but sniffed every freakin' thing. Liked to run, so I worked up a sweat. (Eighty-five degrees for September is petty warm, yes?) Back at AFAR, they didn't have any other dogs, so I was done. I played with a little matted Maltese that's up for adoption (her name is Gwen) and poked around with a kitty who kept sneezing. She was being held by Meg, who organized the outing, and who played games with the kitty by cradling her in the pouch of her upturned T-shirt. The cat kept sneezing, and Meg would say, "I had green stuff all over this shirt a few minutes ago." Eww. Kitty snot.
Picked up a few movies for tonight and tomorrow: Platoon (for reference – I'm at a point in my book where I have some Vietnam flashbacks and I need some kind of reference. I've been in contact with a guy from All Experts who knows a little, but who writes emails like he's being charged by the word. My question:
Me: Do you have any sense of what it was like personally under all of this pressure -- that is, we know what history can tell us factually, but was this a living, breathing reality on a daily basis for many young men?
Him:
I don't think it is any pressure.
If you have honor, your nation calls you go.
It's the right thing to do.
It's only pressure for cowards.All righty then. So he's a little righty, but he's giving me some good detail. So that plus Platoon should assist with the visual assault) and The Last Picture Show, which is one of those I think I should see because it's supposed to be good, but I've avoided because it has Cybill Shepherd, who I don't care for. Not an active thing, she's just not someone I care about in a movie. I didn't even watch Moonlighting, and I definitely came around on Bruce Willis – I'm a big Die Hard fan. I even liked Steven Segal's Under Seige because it was Die Hard on a boat. But as for those movies, I may not watch them because there's a Meet the Mayoral candidate Greens party in Astoria after eight tonight. On the one hand, I want to go and meet more new people, on the other, I don't really know many Greens and some of them can be rather standoffish. Particularly when you're not super-knowledgable about certain subjects. Like, uh, Green subjects. But some have been very nice – this past Tuesday we had Greenspeakers again (Toastmasters club for Greens) and the woman who runs it is very nice, despite her deep devotion to composting. Maybe she'll be there. Then again, I can be a real hermit sometimes.
Today is my brother's birthday. He's 29. That's him up top there. Big teasing next year. Though I hated my 20s, and 30s are much better so far, so maybe it'll be a really big celebration. I gave him a call this morning; I'd already given his present to mom during Lake Tomahawk weekend, and she brought it home. I'm going home next weekend for Rosh Hashana (Princess gave us the Tuesday off; I took Monday as well, so it's a 4 day weekend) and I'll see him then. Of course, I can't go home right away on Friday afternoon, since I've signed up to do the Race For The Cure in Central Park. Since I'm not up to racing for anything, I'll be part of the Walk for the Cure. But back to little bro. We're just shy of three years apart – my 32nd will be in November – and we're very, very different people. But we seem to be at a good level for each other. I'd like him to come visit a bit more, so we could be adults in the big world together, but he doesn't manage to get his shit together fast enough. Maybe he's not interested.
This week should be nice and busy. There's a reading I want to go to on Wednesday (for some bizarre reason I thought it was this past Thursday, and was completely mistaken, although it gave me a chance to try for the first time sushi – I found an all-you-can-eat place and tested it all out. I felt very healthy afterwards), and Tuesday night there's a MediaBistro gathering I'm going to with a woman from work named Elaine. We're going to bond. The last time we bonded we went to two book release parties and at the second I met Steve, who ended up being my boyfriend for quite some time. So we have good karma together. We don't do this very often because sometimes it's hard to get the temperature of the other editors in the office, sometimes they're a little on the, er, inside-jokey-high-schooly-giggly side and I just can't be arsed. Everything with them is fabulous. Fabulous = so campy/corny/silly you have to love it. That tires me out. On the other hand, I thought about it all the other day and realized I'm not as silly as I used to be, and I kind of miss it. I want deep meaningful discussions, but some of my own inside jokey high schooly giggly stuff could be fun once in a while. I just don't see any of my friends frequently enough to keep that going, and I think that sort of thing needs daily feeding. I'm keeping it in mind. Then Thursday Jenny (of Firenze Jenny and Gerry!) and I are going to see Funny Girl, the restored print of which is on the big screen at the Ziegfeld. I'm very excited. I've never seen it and I love those big fat musicals. Jenny and Gerry are also organizing a trip to Six Flags in late October. I'm hoping it all pans out – that should be fun. More fun than their wedding reception To Which I Overdressed in Jersey, because I won't have to suffer through totally useless conversation with further inside jokey high schooly giggly people (read: some of their friends) whose opinions aren't all that interesting. That'll be there, but there will also be roller coasters. Whee! Saturday Mel should be around and I'm going to try and get us to go to one of those cheesy 80s clubs, like Culture Club or Poly Esters. So, if all goes well, this week shall be social! Sunday will be walkable! And then I'll be in Maryland and hopefully get to see some of my very favorite people in the world.
Although, it's been a week since hearing from D.
