I moved the very long preamble to the post to the bottom. I keep adding to it. This might end up being my New Years post, nah….I linked to an article on the Jessica Cutler lawsuit because it reflected my post
This is fiction. It’s written fast and not edited. The microwave timer goes off after 25 minutes and I stop. Figuring out names takes too long as I love and find meaning in names
I find myself more and more enamored with fiction. Next week I’m going to give myself an hour so that I can do a lot of dialogue. Subject to change of whim or priority of course.
Manhattan, present day
He hadn’t come last night. That was all she could think about as she paced her living room. He hadn’t come nor had he called, and all his numbers went straight to voice mail. They had missed their reservation at Jean George, a restaurant that he liked.
She hated anything in any Trump building on principle, and this was in that really obnoxious hotel across from the Time Warner Mall, a company she hated but a mall she could actually spend time in. The food was great, the room was airy and pretty in a modernistic way, but she hated the building. He made fun of her hates, and principles, and was always asking where her PBS bag was.
She should have been scared but she was angry. He had done this too often before. In the eleven months they had been together again, he had stood her up three times.
She wasn’t sure that the first time counted as he had been stuck in an elevator, and couldn’t leave the pregnant woman who had been in the the car with him until she had her baby in Lenox Hill Hospital. Her water had broke in the elevator, and he felt responsible. It had made the news. The woman had called him “my hero.” He hadn’t delivered the damn baby. She had bought a baby present for them, attended the bris and once a month they would visit the woman and her baby. Her husband seemed to be another piece of furniture. Was she?
He was so proud of that damn baby. He acted as if he had conceived and delivered him. Yet when she asked if he regretted not having kids, he said no. She wasn’t sure of that. He was still attractive. Many younger women would love to give him a kid. She never let herself think of things like that.
The second time he had fallen asleep. his phone had been off, and he hadn’t charged his cell. That counted. He had done similar things too often in the past.
The third time his car had broken down on the top of a hill, and the phone battery died. That was her favorite. He could summon help, he could stay at a motel while the car was being fixed but he couldn’t remember to call her.
She wasn’t going to take him back. Not this time.
She was sick of being treated as if she were a play thing. When they were young it was different. Cheating by mutual consent, she called it. But they had divorced and made new lives for themselves.
Eleven months ago they had ran into each other at the AMC 68th Street, as they came out of different theaters. They had laughed, talked and spent the night at her place. It seemed so natural to pick up again after fifteen years. Both were newly divorced, again. She hated dating. He excelled at it but claimed that he didn’t like it. She never believed that.
They had an easy rapport. But when he wanted her to move in with him she refused. It was more prudent to wait. Maybe this was a rebound thing. Maybe they had unfinished business from their first go around. No maybe about it. There was much they had never discussed.
If she went to his apartment she would feel like a fool whether or not he was there. If she went to his studio, she would feel even more stupid. When she was a teenager she would look for him everywhere. Once she found him with a girl who looked exactly like she did. All they could do was stare at each other.
She hadn’t given him choices then. It was come back to her or die. Now she wasn’t going to give him a choice. Only this time she was going to break it off forever. She didn’t need a man who couldn’t remember to call.
They hadn’t been teenagers in over half a lifetime. She had never been so glad that she refused to live with him. Maybe he wasn’t cheating, but he wasn’t respecting her. That was cheating in a way.
The phone rang. She snapped at her mother and then felt foolish. It wasn’t her mother’s fault. Maybe it was. Her mother had always liked him, and after they began to date again, made no attempt to hide how much more she liked him than Roger. No it wasn’t her mother’s fault so she forced to listen to fifteen minutes of minutia about the baked apples her mother had made for desert the night before for the ladies after the mah jong game. Her mother used to make fun of women who played mah jong before she had become a widow.
Widow, something she would never become. Twice divorced was good enough. She put on her leather jacket, and got ready to take a walk. When he called she would break up with him. She would never date again, would volunteer at PBS, and have her mother teach her mah jong.
She thought that she should be a bit scared but was too angry. She wasn’t sure if she was angry about now or then. Why do men love unresolved issues? Why do they think that they can just pick up again, and this time it will work if they won’t talk about what went wrong before?
Though she had never been big on men who wanted to talk about every little thing. They tended to care too much.
She went to Riverside Park and walked downtown until she was almost at Chelsea Piers.
Her cell played his song “bad luck in dancing school.” She turned the phone off.
I did wonder if there would be Warren Zevon ringtones. But that’s the beauty of fiction. Who cares? And they would be nice.
When I heard Bush speak about Ford today, I lost it. Couldn’t stop laughing when he talked about how Ford helped a divided nation heal. Is he delusional? The people of this country haven’t really been divided since Katrina but the federal government is a joke, and seems to be seriously intent on dividing this country again. We must get out of Iraq and soon. New Orleans must be rebuilt. New York rebuilt itself without the help of the federal government. People should remember that. Bush should know that.
New York is all beautiful glitz, especially now for the holidays. Stores are expensive. Basic necessities of life are much more expensive than elsewhere. Yet most people get three percent raises a year. Wall Street artifically inflates the “salary” economy by a bazillion percent. My apartment expenses alone are going up 40% in January. That’s frigging major. I think about leaving so much because I don’t want to go broke eventually, and won’t somewhere else. If I buy an apartment in Santa Monica, my monthly carrying charges would be much lower. The apartment cost would be similar. Food–let’s not even go there.
President Bush didn’t do one damn thing to help New York. Let’s never forget the terrorist risks Montana has. Like my coop, the city of New York digs deeper and deeper each year. The only thing that’s saving it is Wall Street and the housing market. I’m proudly doing my part. While my expenses are going up so much, my income is remaining the same.
According to Technorati, I’m an “A” list blogger. I don’t care. That and subway token won’t get me on the subway. What I did find interesting was that in their sample blog list, they didn’t have one “A” list personal blogger.
Personal blogging is writing without a safety net. It’s not easy to talk about a life without hurting people, and maintaining some privacy, dignity maybe. I’m not an entertainment, tech, prod placement, political–well that’s debatable but Courting does take some courage.
I think that pure personal blogging is losing its edge to blogs with images, youtube videos, songs, and that’s not what I’m about. Though I love photography, it’s something I do for me, more than for my blogs. I do enjoy podcasts and will do more of them. At my own time, when I’m ready–I had to delete two Imac podcast photo blogs that I spent days on because every image in my computer seemed to be captured.
I don’t want to be a “high ranked, high authority blog.” I want a blog that people care about. It did take me a long time to understand that people actually read my blog. I so so much appreciate that.
I wrote this before I read about the law suit against Jessica Cutler Her blog is as really nothing. She can’t talk about her day to day life. That leaves her with nothing to say, and the quality of her blog reflects that. It’s being able to work around the perimeters of “I had sex with,” that separates writers with a good blog from bloggers with just a blog selling slutty stuff.
I, sans laptop will be away for eight days in the middle of January. It will be the first time in four years I won’t have a computer on my back in an airport. Before I blogged, I was a reporter and seemed always to be in the middle of a story when scheduled to go away. I pulled two all nighters the nights before my friend’s wedding in the Bahama’s. I’m told I was very funny. I don’t remember and I wasn’t under any substance influence. No I do remember. I get punch drunk tired and become the queen of oxymoron’s.
How can I go away after complaining about my expenses? Not going broke yet, and am single. My family and friends have teenage, college, grad school, and maybe living expenses coming up for their kids. I don’t. Sometimes being single and childless is incredible.
I was going to trash my gmail spam which is essentially every company and organization except for guilt inducing ones,plus normal penile errection things, online poker, people telling me I had won a million dollars the usual, and only had 367 in 24 hours. This is three to four times less than normal. I assume companies and orgs are on vacation plus real spammers. For some reason this does warm my heart.
I don’t have the heart to put in Spam, spiritual centers and Democratic politicians, but the thought has crossed my mind. I have gotten this youtube video from John Edwards almost hourly for the past six hours so here…
And I saw Dreamgirls at the Zeigfeld and it was so much better than any Broadway show I have seen in years. No I didn’t see it on Broadway. Saw Thank you for smoking, and after all I have learned about product placement since blogging, wow. Would have been great anywa.