Monday, July 12, 2004
pinot grigio and extra credit.
was i just complaining about new york?
saturday was a beautiful, inimitable day--and best, the kind that can only happen here.
wait. back up. saturday morning was nasty, but only because of the back-and-forth tensions of us both feeling bad about the upcoming absence and our respective reactions to it. it boiled and bubbled until i ended up crying until my nose ran, and admitting ashamedly that i felt, um, abandoned. and that even though i knew what was going down was not abandonment, my inner three year old needed some calming anyway and could i please just get extra unreasonable attention and petting during the next few days?
what followed was miraculous. the perfect day in central park, with turtles and a string trio and good walks, brunch at amy's and then a glass of cold white wine in a french restaurant we couldn't have afforded to order lunch in. best, it was quietly understood, after my non-quiet tantrum, that for the entire day, i got extra cheese and the last word and treated to coffee and could do no wrong. and the day was so lovely, as if someone had sculpted it in advance for me.
and then i had another recurring dream in the monkey series, in which i dream i have a pet monkey who somehow escapes me, leading to dire consequences, and i don't realize the monkey=monkey connection until i think about mentioning the dream in the blog. in this one, the monkey was larger, and we were visiting a state park, and after he got away from me i got him back and put him in his monkey carrier (i lured him with squares of brown toast with peanut butter). soon, though, a federal ranger came to tell me that video surveillance cameras revealed a monkey had "gone to the bathroom" on abraham lincoln's burial site, which was nearby, and i was in deep yogurt. dum-dum-DUM.
saturday was a beautiful, inimitable day--and best, the kind that can only happen here.
wait. back up. saturday morning was nasty, but only because of the back-and-forth tensions of us both feeling bad about the upcoming absence and our respective reactions to it. it boiled and bubbled until i ended up crying until my nose ran, and admitting ashamedly that i felt, um, abandoned. and that even though i knew what was going down was not abandonment, my inner three year old needed some calming anyway and could i please just get extra unreasonable attention and petting during the next few days?
what followed was miraculous. the perfect day in central park, with turtles and a string trio and good walks, brunch at amy's and then a glass of cold white wine in a french restaurant we couldn't have afforded to order lunch in. best, it was quietly understood, after my non-quiet tantrum, that for the entire day, i got extra cheese and the last word and treated to coffee and could do no wrong. and the day was so lovely, as if someone had sculpted it in advance for me.
and then i had another recurring dream in the monkey series, in which i dream i have a pet monkey who somehow escapes me, leading to dire consequences, and i don't realize the monkey=monkey connection until i think about mentioning the dream in the blog. in this one, the monkey was larger, and we were visiting a state park, and after he got away from me i got him back and put him in his monkey carrier (i lured him with squares of brown toast with peanut butter). soon, though, a federal ranger came to tell me that video surveillance cameras revealed a monkey had "gone to the bathroom" on abraham lincoln's burial site, which was nearby, and i was in deep yogurt. dum-dum-DUM.
