and with it the reminder that new york city is meant to be enjoyed.
a point to the city please.
and to whitney, who reminded me.
sometimes life calls for a good ring-around-the-carousel.
sometimes it feels as though the whole of the universe conspires to teach me patience.
but i am not a patient person. and very resistant to new lessons.
my friend whitney came to town for the weekend. and determined to show her the best of all five boroughs i dragged her to brooklyn for grimaldi's coal-oven pizza. grimaldi's very famous coal-oven pizza. grimaldi's you-must-often-wait-in-a-line-for coal-oven pizza.
we arrived around four hoping the line would be short. it was not. we waited for an hour. in the cold. shivering and shaking.
when we finally arrived inside we watched as everyone around received their orders.
and then sat in shock as they shut down the oven. needed to be refreshed, they said.
and so we waited another hour, pizzas flanking us on either side.
and i grew grumpy.
(attractive, no?)
and our plates just sat there.
empty.
even whitney, cool-much-more-pulled-together-than-me-whitney, grew...frustrated.
and then. miracle of miracles. it came.
the relief. the sweet, sweet relief.
grimaldi's is good. really good. always good. but not necessarily worth the two hour wait.
so, go when the crowds do not.
clearly, i still have a thing or two to learn about patience.
okay. so.
dear husband-to-be,
i've been thinking a lot about deal-breakers lately.
i mean what is a deal-breaker?
what is that thing that will make you say to someone else, that's it, my love for you will never overcome this. because isn't love supposed to trump everything?
does love change the rules? and therefore change our set of deal-breakers?
so, do deal-breakers even really exist?
and then i sat next to a man on the train yesterday, and had my clearest thought in weeks: axe as deodorant? deal-breaker.
love,
the woman who is so glad you smell just the way you do. and would've kept walking had you been wearing said deodorant. don't believe me? just try.
happy fat tuesday!
it's the final day of mardi gras.
the last day to indulge before the lenten period of restriction begins.
what will you be eating today?
i've been waffling between giving up cheese versus the ever-present in my diet, honey and peanut butter. but that's for tomorrow. today, i will consume copious amounts of both!
hmmm. jury's still out.
all i know is i desperately wish i was in venice today. enjoying carnevale. and indulging as only roman catholic italians can!
jeans
i liked him immediately.
because he was honest.
and so, i was honest.
immediately.
and yes, we've spoken about ned.
because ned is the answer to so many questions: why am i not acting? why didn't i like juilliard? why and why and on and on.
and where honesty is concerned, ned cannot be avoided.
and the thing is, he doesn't get it. at all.
not. at. all.
and i love that. his lack of understanding.
because it makes me feel healthy. and normal.
and the thing is, it's not for him to understand.
not for anyone, really.
my parent's don't even get it. and they know me better than anyone. and they were there. and for them--because they must heal as well--the process of coming out of this illness is coming to terms with the knowledge that they will never understand. that this thing--this, what i jokingly call ned--is an untouchable part of me.
last night he commented that he's never seen me wear a pair of jeans.
and i mentioned that i don't own any.
and in that moment i realized this was the first of the small things that would reveal ned with a certain, tangible clarity.
i can talk about it all until i'm blue in the face and i can answer all of his questions and it will be... just... words, a lip-service.
but it is the absence of jeans, the fact that i haven't owned a pair in going on four years that will reveal what i cannot--that will give way to his first glimmer of understanding.
but it is not understanding of the disease so much as the understanding that he will never understand.
and this is the understanding i fear.
because today it is a pair of jeans. and tomorrow it is the absence of photos in the family album. and from there... well, from there... i just don't know.