In Mt. Pleasant

Eating a mushroom and cheese scone that a temporary housemate brought home. They could become a permanent housemate, if they want me. And if I want to stay on this coast.

I finally made a pros and cons list for moving away. So far the biggest pro is: no more allergies. The biggest con: DC is so damn bikeable - anywhere else will probably be worse.

K still hasn't texted me back. Maybe asking about thanksgiving was the wrong call. Eventually I'll ask if he doesn't want to be in touch. It was an intense little affair that we had. It was hard to keep it light and easy to think about falling in love. And yet, it was hard to imagine how we would go about it - across the continent, with our strange history, with our recent breakups. The answer is not to go about it at all - to both move on and grow in our ways, and then revisit the question. We both admitted to thinking very intense questions, like about kids - at least we were both carried away, but where are we now?

I bought a lot of stuff recently. One thing I bought is going to the wrong quadrant of town - a rookie mistake. Hoping that either UPS will fail to deliver it or when I bike over to knock on Tuesday they'll give it to me. 

My COVID test came back negative, so I am free to roam the house without an N95. I was already being very casual because I took so few risks lately, and I was nearly the only one home. Almost a week of my 4 week stay here is already over, and the house is still pretty empty. I'm not sure I'll really have time to get to know people. If I come back for 20 days in January, I maybe I can do better.

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Forgot to hit publish. Now it's Monday morning and I need to work.

I called K last night, based on Edith's sage advice. We just chatted, and said it would be nice to talk on the phone sometimes to get to know each other better. He's been having some feelings about his breakup - it was a month more recent than mine, so no one should be surprised. Overall a nice conversation.

Edith says I should go ahead with the Creative Community.

Maybe a Google Form for interest and preferences is the first step.

 

In New Orleans

Shocked to discover I wrote on this blog in 2020 and 2021. They are lost years in a few ways; waiting to be rediscovered, perhaps.

I am more used to writing pen to paper these days, and I did try to spin up an alternative digital home a few weeks before SB and I broke up, but in the short interim between today's outing and this evening's I thought, for whatever reason, that this was the place to be.

I had a whirlwind of a day. As happens almost time, I was betrayed by a microdose. I dismounted from my bicycle after a peppy ride talking animatedly to myself in French and wondered - "oh dear, am I really sick?". I was dizzy and a little nauseous walking into Couturie Forest. My throat, which has had a little tickle since Thursday, was tight. 

I wandered in, and up to the "highest point in New Orleans" - a joke I think, because the levee by Lake Pontchartrain is higher per my recollection. Three 9-year-olds lead me up (I followed them) and when I caught up to the laggard he warned me that his friends were up ahead. As he did, the friend yelled "scream if you can see us" down to my interlocutor. 

The top was anticlimactic and I wandered on, seeing a striking growth of wood ear mushrooms. Then I happened upon a triad of unreal live oaks and their unreality reminded me of the little pill I'd taken an hour before.

I laughed to myself later that my condition was "an accident, I forgot." Is it funny? I laughed to myself a lot today. I found myself terribly good company. I told myself jokes only I would get.

Oh, another great moment from before I remembered about the drugs! I came across this bird blind that just faced a fence basically. A big wooden wall with four cutouts, and little benches behind each one. And I thought, "how silly," as I walked around it, past the sign about songbirds. Then I paused and realized I heard quite a bit of song and thought to myself, "well, it works!"

Is that funny if you're not tripping? Maybe someone heard all of the birdsong and thought "it's coming from the fence" and so decided to build the wall facing the fence.

In addition, just to the side of the bird blind was this cypress tree that was bent over in a graceful arc, so that its top brushed the ground but it wasn't broken at all. I thought of it as a very dramatic tree, keeling over in emotion. I took a picture. Would sober me have seen a fainting tree? Maybe.

It was a blessed day, with bathrooms appearing at ideal intervals, never getting too hungry, never feeling tired. Early on I had a moment of fear, recognizing that I wouldn't have chosen to do drugs so close the breakup and thinking for a moment about whether I would be sad about Shelly but I managed to get myself off of that track - I'm sure I saw something silly in the forest.

A few other silly moments to record here or with a pen, but I want to get to the restaurant early.