Hang Out Type: Get Away Hang (Immediate Friends)

CJ jokes, "That time you were in Portland it was like you were in a black hole. It must have been hard for you to not be in contact with me". It was hard and it was true. I had spent years dipped out of the circle of my oldest friends. On some self induced loner quest through the west coast in search of something that I am not sure of. In these last few years I have been trying to be more balanced in maintaining ties and continuing on my own personal venture. One way to do it is to plan a getaway with your nearest and dearest. Combining the perks of road trip (stop at random country spot,ROBERT IS HERE ), site seeing and lounging, the get away allows the space for you to relax and the space for random chat and intimate moment. This past weekend I spent getting some of that keeping-ties time in, having a get-away weekend in the Florida Keys with said old friends. It pays to make that intentional time with your closest friends, with the folks who know you best. Giving yourself a chance to mend and regroup from the world/community that you normally inhabit that may not know you as intimately or well. You renew your bonds to one another and then at the end huddle up and say "go team" with renewed energy to continue on your own personal journeys. Personal Side Note: If you have never been to Florida I am sure you want to know, "What's up with Florida?!" I am a fan of the state and while difficult for me to slow down a little bit after the whirlwind that was moving through Latin America and difficult not to be home with the whirlwind that is Sandy, I enjoyed the peace of mind my time here allowed me. For me Florida is real subtle breezes and sun, salt water and springs, tropical fruit and lizards, cruisers and one-story sandy colored buildings. I spent most my time doing yard work in random yards, seeking out fruit and laying in the sun. This was my first time in the keys. We stayed at a woman's land called Sugar Loaf Woman's Village on Upper Sugar Loaf Key, that provided us a totally tranquilo and private space to chill with one another. Among it's variable adorable structures and flora, my favorite spot on the land of course was the outdoor shower with hecka warm water. We spent a day at a dug out quarry full of coral and tropical fish. I didn't move much from my sunning spot but my friends took frequent dips and gave themselves full body masks from a muddy spot on the shore. Plenty of things to do here and if you are ever headed down this way please feel free to hit me up so I can give you the insider Floridian tips on how to enjoy the real Florida.

Hang Out Type: Spontaneous

In the moves being made to a) move out of my apartment and b) go on a three and half month vacay, I realize here in New York I have finally built up a network of folks, solid and reliable who make my life here much easier.  And that even in New York with a little intention you can build up community to the point that living in this metropolis is starting to not feel so different from the smallest town I have ever lived in-a perk that includes the spontaneous hang out.  One of the things I was missing about my small town communities from years back was the random drop in, the impromptu dinners, having friends down the block who were immediately accessible for any random favor.   Although geographically my life here is not structured to facilitate this as easily as it was say in Pensacola, FL where all my friends for the most part lived within a seven block radius of one another, here in Brooklyn/Queens a bicycle makes disconnected portions of the city seem seamlessly accessible, fluidly blending into one another.  Ten to twenty minute rides providing you fairly quick access to one group of friends or the other.  The spontaneous hang is a web of assurance and a nod of reliability and accessibility from a circle of friends that you are cared for and taken care of.  And I don't think of myself as being particularly social but I do enjoy good company, keeping me from feeling like I exist in some sort of void but I am reluctant to plan.  So having people who are easily accessible and existing in my life allows for the spontaneous hang, that random moment of getting to catch up with your friend.

Hang out Type: One on One

Hermano a hermano.

The one on one is my thing. One on ones you can roll deep , symbiotic with another human, running tasks, eating food, moving forward in one silent in sync motion.  Finding moments to share thoughts that seem random like something you read about numerology or ancient Romans or how you remember the first time you saw your mom lie or how you don't think you can ever honestly love someone because you just don't trust a single soul.  The most casual comment to the most intimate woven together with ease between the two of you, along with jokes and sound advice.  It carries an intimacy that I am addicted to and that I find necessary to gain from most friends in order to feel we gently push the boundaries of our friendship outwards, to a further place.  Providing a space for the friendship not just as a pair but allowing a sincere space for one of your partners in living to be distinctively human, where they can say what they want and exist how they wish.   

Groups are solid and it is rad to be able to pull off a genuinely good time with a large amount of  people.  But one on ones are the essential building blocks to a friendship.  Make the time for near and dear and make sure you are readily available, undistracted, open and ready.  You can answer that text later.  Turn to your pal and breathe slow, do something nice, this is the moment you will remember when you think about them when they are not around anymore.  



Personal Side Note.  Mano a mano. This dude was reading my palm explaining to me that your left hand stays the same, it's your overall narrative but your right palm changes and gives a heads up to where you're at in the moment.  Looking at my hand his eyebrows arched in empathy and he says to me, "You really feel what others are going through, you take in their energy".  The comment made me stumble out of my smugness for a moment and I smirk and weakly say "yea".  And with even more sentiment he says to me, "No. Like you really feel it, to the point it's unbearable.  You might even avoid being around people because of it".  My response in this moment was to pull my hand away because being that seen is not my thing but that sentiment is almost always counteracted by wanting to give in, hoping that I have found someone to give into. What he said was true.

Hang Out Type: WORK

First job as a bagger, the smell of this place still makes me gag a little and they all smell the same.

Ah WORK.  Some of us take pride in it, some of us avoid it at all costs, for some of us it is the base of our identity, and for most of us I imagine it is a combination of those feelings and many more.  It's where on average according to the Bureau of Labor Statistics we spend 8 hours of our day. What are you doing with that time and  bonds formed with work?  I have a very tight crew of friends who while I adored them before we even started working together, the ups and downs of our work place has sealed us in a different and special way for life.  They forever will be family to me and my soul aches for them in an inexplicable way.  And then there are those times you work with friends and maybe your respect for them drops a little because their work ethic sucks and they would let it affect their co-workers/friends with such ease you wondered if they truly contained any sort of consciousness.

As a worker my favorite hang outs were restaurants, where your co workers smoke pot in the walk-in coolers and you can somehow get away with being a little drunk.  Sometimes working a kitchen on a slow night with no orders coming in was so boring that you thought you could simply die but  I miss the conversations with my co-workers and interactions with customers.  Grocery store jobs come in a close second where you could inevitably get away with chilling behind the dumpster or storage room or in yet another walk-in. I also have a slight obsession with aisles of food. Not the actual consumption of food but rather the many types of food and how to present them.  One of my favorite places to work was at Sevananda Natural Foods Coop when I lived in Atlanta.  I ran the supplements and herbs section and really loved stocking the herb jars because you had a chance to interact with the herb, smelling its freshness and medicinal qualities.  There are other grocery store nerds out there like me.  We meet in private.

One of my favorite tasks at one of my favorite jobs, stocking bulk herbs.

Also there is hanging out with friends at their jobs.  I like to see my friends working, it is another spectrum of their personality you may not know so well yet.  Watching how they interact with strangers, their co-workers and their work ethic, is charming.  Work is some sort of sacred space and I am honored to be let into it.  It's kind of like when people bring you home to their families, they are fine with being humiliated alone in these situations but then when they have chosen you as a witness to their lives it is something special.

I just counted to myself how many jobs I have had in my life and surprisingly could only think of 13.  I only say surprisingly because I have tallied up my life before and in total I have lived in 7 towns, 16 different houses and have had 57 roommates, so 13 jobs seems low.  But of course none of these numbers are counting randomness in between, life white noise.  At some point in my late 20's I had somehow decided I never wanted to see another human so chose a profession that affords little human contact at times.  Turns out that I was wrong.  Office life is draining and isolating despite the challenge and mental stimulation of my work tasks.  I have been working alone for the last eight months.  Just this second I said so long to a comrade from the office next door.  We literally became friends by the water cooler and our mutual dry humor has been getting us by these last months.  He has unexpectedly decided (the best kind of decisions) to break free and go traveling.  Sad to see him go, we exchanged contact information, high fived each other and hope to see each other soon.  Here's three cheers for hanging out in the space that consumes most of your adult life- the work hang out.




Thanks to Olivia for reminding me of the work hang out- where we hung out together as Research Assistants in the bowels of Columbia University.

Hang Out Type: WTF?

Sunday morn stroll through Von King Park (Bed-Suy) on my way to retrieve my life.  

I am slightly addicted to chaos.  It gives me a subtle satisfaction and at the end of a day of it I will sleep the easiest.  This weekend was probably my favorite in awhile beginning Friday night with unexpectedly having three people sleeping in my fairly small studio apartment, which nearly a year ago would have seemed like an impossible desire.  A year ago the thought of even having one person in my home for a few hours was almost overwhelming.  But as we all four drifted to sleep the one closest to me wished me many many blessings throughout my life for my generosity.  I wanted to tell her the moment we were all in was blessing enough.

The next day I woke up slightly feverish but happy and spent the morning sharing punk music and cigarettes with my current pseudo roommate.  The day was beautiful out but I could already sense that it would be off and although feeling remarkably lazy, decided to eventually step out the door and see what the vibe I was feeling was all about.  I worked for a few hours and then went to go meet up my old friend Scotty at our friend's bookstore for a stroll, some reminiscing, and general check in.  We had a really lovely evening of hanging out with another old friend from our former "dejected planet" of Pensacola.  Around 9PM we returned to the book store to find it dark, our friend gone, a classic move on his part.  We were met with an apologetic note about how he couldn't possibly wait leaving Scotty unsure how to return to where he was staying for the night and me without my bike and house keys.  I called pseudo roommate in hopes that he was around so that I could return home and Scott could chill until he figured out where he was going, only to be quickly hung up on because pseudo roommate was on his own weird adventure for the day, helping a friend in need who seemed to have disappeared.  I was laughing hysterically at this point joking about how I really needed to get some normal ass friends who a) would not deprive me of all my belongings to leave me stranded mid Saturday night and b) would not hang up on me two seconds into a phone call without finding out first why the fuck I was calling.  Scotty seemed stressed in a non-New Yorker way by our predicament but I decided to solve the stress of the moment how I solve all my feelings of angst in New York - by catching a cab.  Sure, they can be pricey but the ease of the ride lulls me, I usually have a nice chat with the driver and it gives me a moment to think and gather my bearings.  Around 11:30 PM I get Scotty to his destination after a few hours of BK walking and exploration.  I eventually get the  text that I would not be getting into my own house that night and due to an increasingly brewing fever I almost cry where I would have been laughing at my misfortune  instead.  Another Florida friend stepped up to the plate and welcomed me to her home around 1AM, where I finally got to crash until my very stinky slightly sore self would have to get up the next morning and trek north to retrieve my belongings and my bike.  Without my key I missed two anticipated social events, a gay nautical space themed dance party on a boat and a birthday picnic in Prospect Park.  But I spent time with other friends during my brief window of homelessness, having unexpected conversations and exploring streets unknown to me, so I was content.  How the hell does being locked out of your house sound like fun you may be asking?  Well most importantly because it reminds me that I still have it in me.  That I am still alive- that my body and spirit are still operating at a level that can take whatever each day is going to lend me.  So I want to shout out-"Give me more!", to whoever it is that is listening.

Raised eyebrows, whoas, and it's-complicated's , have been bantered around me a lot as of late in response to my current life plannings and happenings.  But I love this shit and by shit I mean my life.  What is so fucking complicated?  This year of living dangerously, I want to lend what I can lend and bend where I can bend.   After nearly a decade of boxing things up, being cautious and over analyzing I am exhausted.  This year is a lesson in and a return to just going with it.

Hang Out Type: Disaster!!

Safety crouch for tornadoes

I am a big fan of disaster preparedness and it largely came from my own experiences going through a category 5 hurricane in Pensacola Florida, which is why my good friend, Matt Runkle interviewed me for his series The Business of Staying Alive on his blog.  To correspond with that chat I wanted to talk about hanging - disaster.

One of my favorite moments in disaster hanging was during school in the  seventh grade while waiting for tornado sirens to sound at which point we were all trained to run quickly to the hallways to get into our safe positions. In the interim some genius on the staff thought it was a good moment for us to all watch Romeo and Juliet (1968).  Nothing will make a bunch of twelve year olds hornier than watching a tale of teenage rebellion in love and lust while awaiting their impending death by high speed winds.  My 7th grade boy friend at the time, held my hand through out the whole movie and our palms made a sweaty ass mess with the anxiety we were feeling and because it was really muggy and hot. I think they would turn off the AC every time a tornado was on its way and let me tell you in a school full of pubescence turning off the AC is no joke!  I mostly remember just fantasizing about my future in banging it out like the protagonists in the movie but the boyfriend was clearly operating on a much deeper emotional level.  At the end of the movie he turned to me very somberly and staring dead into my face said, "Tina-I need you to know right now that I love you".   I think I smirked at his vulnerability, laughed a little and said "alrighty" which is not too far off from how I react when someone tells me they love me now, because I think they are drunk, lying or just confused.  The tornado came and while we had all enjoyed the day of no work - when the sirens finally sounded the halls were eerily quiet as we crouched against the walls, listening to each other's breathing and the truly train like sounds of the tornado.

Flash forward about twelve years to me waiting out Hurricane Ivan in Pensacola, with me and my roommates cuddled up into the hallway that ran the center of our house with a mattress blocking the entrance to guard us against any flying debris if it should come down to it.  My boyfriend at the time was not trying to convey to me how much he loved me in case of death but rather kept begging me to shut up with the jokes already so that he could sleep out the hurricane.  Fair enough.  But my roommate Paul and I were engrossed in the play by play hurricane being broad casted on the radio and for some reason thought the reports scary yet slightly hilarious and spent most the night giggling in a corner.   With our battery powered radio, some water and a few snacks we waited out the night.  Besides a torn awning our house survived the storm really well.  I can't say the same for my neighbors, one of which had completely lost their roof.  The news focuses on storms as if it is this isolated moment in time where everything exists after the storm the way it was before but that is never the case, things always change. The weeks after the storm was eye opening in how the world truly exists when you and your neighbors are meeting up every day at the back of an army truck to receive rations of food and water.   Much of the time everyone spent the few weeks after Hurricane Ivan with no water and electricity, centered around helping out neighbors and friends with any clean up they needed and the sharing of supplies so everyone was getting by comfortably enough.  The punk owned and run coffee shop I worked at at the time stayed open largely due to the dedication of my good friend Scotty.  There was enough amenities to pull off making coffee and he dutifully sat out in front of the coffee shop for days dispersing cups of joe for donation.  His effort in creating a sense of normalcy in a tumultuous moment I thought sacred and was much appreciated by neighbors and passers by, as a place to stop, share stories and offer support.

So the rules, the rules.  Like in all moments in life where you can anticipate stress try to remember
1) It's not that serious- you will make it through.  Humor is invaluable.  2) Don't get dramatic, let's keep it together no? There is going to be a lot of work to do after the storm.  3) But also take care of yourself and run through any emotions you're having, they are legit. 4) Like any other time period in your life, take time to relax and enjoy the company of your friends and yourself.

Here is the Center for Disease Control's web page on disaster preparedness , don't let it make you crazy, just let it make you aware.

Hang Out Type: Cultural-Art

Recently (yesterday) when I stopped to assess how I was spending my time once again, I realized that on a fairly regular basis my time consists of looking at art.  With art sometimes I am pleasantly surprised, sometimes deeply inspired and sometimes muttering under my breath "fer crissakes" because I am in the midst of some boring art in a room full of janky people.  Focusing on the positive, just wanted to share some of the visual art I have come across in the last few months that I have really liked.

Watts Towers constructed by Simon Rodia. Los Angeles, December 2011.

My LA Crew: Alee, Mikey, Some guy, Wadala

The Ungovernables (group show).  New Museum. New York City.  April 2012. Really enjoyed most of the exhibit but my favorite piece by far was the film "Jewel"  by Hassan Kahn. I could have watched it at least five more times and am regretting that I didn't. Might go back.  I finally found a decent recording of it on the interweb and wanted to share it.

4000 Disparos/4000 Shots. Jonathas de Andrade.

 

Dias en que todo es verdad (a small portion of the installation). Mariana Telleria.

Paintings by Lynette Yiadom Boakye. 2011

  Essential Hues (group show) at Wayfarers Gallery. Bed-Stuy, NYC.  April 2012.

Altar of painted shells by Anna Luisa

Art work by Caitlan Rose Sweet. Loved it!

Altar and art work by Caroline Paquita

Poster art by Mother Popcorn

                                   

Poster art by Caroline Paquita.

Art work by Adee Roberson

 

Hang Out Type: Solo

When the hang out blog was first birthed I wondered if I could pull it off because honestly I don't hang out all that much in comparison to other folks I know.  However, I do know how to chill and succumbed to being some sort of expert in hanging.  This post is about hanging out and being ALONE. Alone not lonely- loneliness hits me rarely but I quickly suck it up (literally because I am probably smoking a cigarette) and get on with it because I'll remember something out of some Buddhist book I read about how accepting how we are truly alone is the shit and I kinda agree with them.  I like to spend time being Alone Gloria, a phrase coined recently by an associate to describe times he noticed I just genuinely have no desire to be around a single soul.  Hanging out can certainly happen alone, because hanging out is not about social-ness per se but intentionality in an activity or time spent.  Being Alone Gloria has been put aside for a minute now between house guests, trips, birthdays, not weddings/weddings, random events, general spirit questing and my need to check in with a set list of friends who reside here in the city on a more or less bi weekly basis (to make sure everything is running by some internal standard of peace and order). Also, I intentionally avoid feeling lonely like I avoid feeling love sick because I believe those feelings will inevitably lead to trying to fill up a perceived empty space with any random bobo* or just unfulfilling individual.  With bobos comes boboness and really who has time for that shit? Even more of a reason for solo time to have intention in spending time with yourself as opposed to a reaction against others or the world in general.

Last night five mile walked it on a very chilly but lovely night over the Brooklyn Bridge (finally) zig zagging all the way up to 42nd trying to show my friend Joe (first timer to the city) my favorite aspects of the Manhattan skyline and scenic avenues. Jaunts through Manhattan always make me fall in love again with New York.  This city has made me mature in a new way, my life here forcing me to be in a state of solitude at school, in work, and at home.  Having come of age in several small town tight knit punk scenes, this transition into adulthood over the last few years on my own in academia were a little tough.  Here in this city of millions you have to turn lonely to alone or you won't quite pull through.   This shit is about survival and once you're surviving here you realize you have it in you and you've had it in you all along.  Much of my first intentional alone time here in NYC has been long walks (mostly through my old beautiful hood of Washington Heights) because there is just so much to see.  Asides from long walks I will throw in the occasional movie, museum visit or class (took a First Aid class in January that was hilariously entertaining for me).  You get to interact with other people, strangers as momentary friends, but not within the context of a pre-existing relationship but just as yourself.  Too much time with others makes my alone time about being too depleted and exhausted to do much of anything but stare at a screen.  As much as I enjoy catching up on Walking Dead I'd rather be being slightly more productive with some letter writing, drawing, or physical activity.  So it is important to schedule those alone hang outs just as much as it is to schedule time for your family and friends.   In the end being comfortable hanging out with yourself is inherent to hanging out with others.  Strength in self is what is the base for positively fostering any dynamic between yourself and another human.

What do you like to do alone?



*Bobo-in Spanish silly/stupid/foolish.  In Southern Glorianese-kinda someone who is all of those things but maybe also a selfish ass.

New black and white photos courtesy of my friend Tate.

Hang Out Type: Marathon

Evening stroll on the farm.  All pictures from the upstate birthday excursion described below.

  Marathon Hang-When your life planning has resulted in back to back hang outs.  I wrapped up a  marathon hang this past weekend which began at 7PM Friday and officially ended at 7PM Sunday.  I am a fan of the marathon hang because of the endurance required to pull it off is a reminder to yourself that you most certainly are not dead but very much alive.

Friday
7PM - Met two friends for dinner and catching up.  Ate burgers and mac and cheese which was deliciously fucked up.  Ended this portion of the evening with a stretching session, which my buddy Files is adamant about and regularly gets on me about doing in order to prevent jogging injuries.

Mexican pit stop in Poughkeepsie , mole sauce throw down

9:30 PM- The stretching helped with the walk I had to take to meet up with friends to catch the Mehanata Gypsy Bus for the first birthday celebration of the weekend, that of my good friend Amy. Mehanata is a Bulgarian bar located in the Lower East Side.  I had never been there but it has been a standing favorite with a few of my friends here in NYC for a bit.  Mehanata charters a bus where you and 30 of your closest friends will be driven around for an hour, where you can bring your own alcohol and they provide you a DJ eventually ending up at the club to dance the night away. Like all the punks I was with I was largely skeptical of the Gypsy Bus because you know, we are too cool.  What was this bus and what exactly were we going to be doing on it driving around for an hour?  What we do most the time for an hour , we drank our asses off.  Despite the DJ playing Push It twice and some momentary drama I successfully meditated myself out of delving into, the bus kinda fuckng rules.  An additional highlight was experiencing what the club promotes as the Ice Cage. A room full of bottles of vodka, where you drink as many shots as possible in two minutes out of ice sculpted shot glasses. Since my punk lineage consists of a long line of drunks I went into that "cage" determined to do them proud.  My method was steady and focused making it up to five shots fairly quickly and right when I was contemplating the sixth shot the door guy called us out. I felt somewhat grateful even if slightly unaccomplished.  But damn those five shots were good enough to get me through the night!  Me and two of my closest and oldest literally danced for hours straight.  The key to pulling this sort of evening off I believe is prior resting and chillness before joining the party but most importantly a commitment to having fun.  Nights like this are not for when you want to be in your own head and dwell on your petty  petty problems.  Nights like this are for celebrating and remembering life.


Saturday

The crew walking down through the farm to the yurt

4AM Got home, slept, woke up at 7AM to get ready for an upstate trip with three old friends. We had all been hanging out a week earlier and had hatched this hair brain scheme of taking a trip upstate together for our friend Mona's birthday.  We were tired and tipsy when the idea was born so who the fuck knew it would actually happen?! The upstate trip was perfect, combining elements of road trip (gas station snacks),  group hang (meals and group discussions), one-on-one hang (sleepy conversations, drifting off to sleep with the bunk mate), and even solo hanging (short strolls alone around the farm to check out the plant life).  We had deep discussions and reached spiritual planes we did not think possible.  These type of conversations were required, we were in a yurt!  Waking up the next morning hearing everyones subtle breathing  and bodies shifting, I knew what I missed about my previous days of living in communal houses.  The creative energy, the intimate exchanges, the human sounds and tenderness.  I just have to decide if all those things are worth the price of a perpetually sloppy bathroom.  While I often promote the idea of hanging out with those who you are not comfortable with to push your boundaries a little, nothing beats hanging out with folks where old bonds exist.  Our crew matched up perfectly, each individual playing a needed role, synchronizing into a seamless weekend of hanging hard.  Adding to the pleasantness was the owner of the property who was very kind, had beautiful large black dogs and I am pretty sure was stoned.  My favorite moment with our host was when it was pointed out to him that the water cooler in the kitchen was leaking.  He briefly looked at it, just huffed, said "I can't deal" and walked out.  I thought to myself,  "I am with you dude, me neither" and am considering changing my motto for this year from "The year of living dangerously" to "I can't deal".

Our home for the night

Sunday
5ishPM Return from trip and headed over to the house of the dude I bought my bike from to trouble shoot some problems on the new bike and for some unexpected hanging out.  He gave me a glass of water in an old mason jar so I knew we were
compatriots and I kicked it with him and his wife for a couple of hours talking about old hard core fests, how we hate yuppies, adjusting to New York and living our dreams. I think the three of us were pretending we were back to living in some small punk town were we sat outside and fixed bikes all day. White Bike is now riding like a dream!

End Scene.

I wish I lived in a lil place like this

Marathon hanging had reached it's peak by Monday eve where I had committed myself to yet another hang out and my fraying began to show.  My poor companions noticed and asked me if I was sad but I was not.  We had ended up trying to get food in the neighborhood surrounding NYU, which is an area that fills my soul with such darkness that I wish the entire human race would expire.  Starting specifically in Washington Square Park and radiating out in concentric circles to eliminate all douchery from the planet.  Therefore, Rule #2 of hanging out -know when to call it quits, before you desire a complete blood bath of all humanity.

More adventures to come because I am often blessed with complete solitude and then conversely blessed with an endless amount of socializing.  I am not sure if I can handle it but I will dammit-because I am the Queen of Hanging Out!  This weekend, camping in the Everglades for a not wedding.

Hang Out Type: The Parental Hang

As I was drifting off last night as my parents were watching Airplane because my mom felt our movie for the evening Ghost Dog was too dramatic and she needed to decompress, my dad teases me , "Don't worry we're almost gone".  I smiled a little but my agitation is clear to my dear folks who I feel a little guilty have spent their time and energy to come up to visit their grumpy daughter for the weekend.  Remember that post where I said I like to hang out because I love people, I was straight lying reader and I will do my best to be more honest with you in the future.  The art of hanging out is not about loving people all the time per se but rather of knowing how to find a balance between yourself, others and a lust for life.  I am trying to be more social these days but having two house guests who at the end of the day are a couple was a challenge as I am slowly pulling out of this period of reclusiveness.  I had to pause them a few times and remind them that I had not chosen to be in a relationship with them and therefore did not agree to hear conversations about who or who did not forget to pack dental floss.  And then there were those couple moments when they would do things for each other like get a glass of water, to remind me once again that I am not on a "team" but on my fucking own.  Despite my current mood which I am sure has to do with some planet or something, the type of mood when someone looks at me and says "I love you" I feel the urge to reply "Do ya?" instead of saying something nice back.  Despite this we had some good moments and just hung out.  I got to cook for them several times and they always enjoy my food and we always have fun joking about what I am going to do with them when they are old ("I'm looking for a nursing home in Central Florida off some crappy highway that has barbed wire fencing").  Also always in our time together I try to be as transparent as possible and drop not so settle reminders that I am an aspiring fringe member of society despite these incredible social skills G_d has blessed me with. As I looked at my parents with a smile on my face excitedly talking about the new book I bought about Sufi based meditations and they looked at me with a mix of interest and exasperation, I was reminded of when I was at the Rainbow Gathering once (another story for another day) and I said to my friend Amy looking out on a field of hippies, "Ya know what I see here? A bunch of disappointed parents."

Big sculpture, Little Mom

Parental hangs can be tough.  These are the crazy people who birthed you and raised you and have possibly instilled 95% of the insecurities and hang ups you have been spending a good part of your adult life trying to rid yourself of.  So no matter how much of a rad successful young adult you may be these fools can show up and dismantle all positive visions of yourself with a sentence.  Sigh. But what you have to do is smile through your teeth and say "So you do want to go to the Guggenheim today, si o no?" then remind yourself that they have their own baggage and probably hang ups related to you too that they are dealing with.  Do your best to avoid those topics you know there is no way in hell you are going to agree on and just try to find those cross over interests where you can find common ground.  My mom and I had a great afternoon looking at art work and a sweet little lunch with my buddy Mel. And who doesn't love a sunny afternoon traversing Prospect Park?  In the end you love each other and you are trying to just find that space where you can spend time and grasp on to those few moments of life you are sharing but also appreciate each other's individual paths that you are moving down on your own.  Like licking icing off your plate after that piece of cake, you're enjoying a remnant of something bigger and more substantial you once had but it's time to move on and put that dish in the sink and that's okay too.