Looking at random wedding photos online

ME: Is that the bride?
ADAM: Is she missing some teeth?
ME: Hey. Toothless people deserve love too.

Adam and I have a plan for Tokyo: We're back to being friends with benefits. We're the just-became-lovers running off suddenly to another country. We're going to have a blast.

Read my mind

Maybe a month and a half ago, I got into this video. Seriously into it. It showed a place I'd never been and never much considered. It showed a city different from anything I'd ever known. It showed Tokyo.

Adam and I fly there on Monday.

Adam has a saying: People are morons.

Either he's more cynical than I am, or simply more realistic.

Falling in love with Adam took one kiss.

I tried to rationalize.

I could see dating him ...
I could see something casual ...
I could see something fun ...

But it was beyond that. It was whammo. I'd fallen, and I would never quite get back up again. I fell in love beyond anything I'd ever previously experienced. And he wasn't mine to have.

So I dated. I dated nice guys, professionals, smart and charming and interesting. Guys who were challenging, funny, and available. I told him about each one and he would just smile or laugh and I would think does he care?

Then things changed.

I was nearing my 30th birthday and I'd decided to stop fucking around. I got into grad school. I got my career shit together. I started caring about who I was and how I was treated.

Our friendship got rocky. We fought. Finally we had a heated phone conversation in which he told me "Fuck you!" and if I hadn't been sitting, I would've fallen down with surprise.

Then I stopped talking to him. For three weeks he called and text messaged. For three weeks I ignored him.

Then I sold my car. I sold the 1987 Toyota Celica, white with a frayed black convertible top, that he'd loved to drive. I'd bought my Corolla. The Celica was old news. I emailed him to let him know.

I sold it, I wrote. I figured there was no point in keeping two around.

Soon he fell too.

There is no explaining how much fucking work -- and just plain magic -- has gone into this relationship. I loved him before he was mine to love, and I still love him with everything I have. I have no business expecting anyone other than us to understand this, but I still keep hoping.

Feeling crappy. Sore throat, achy, intermittently feverish. I'm going to pound the Dayquil because not only can I afford to get behind on work, but I leave the country in less than a week.

I loved reading this:

The sheer size and frenetic pace of Tokyo can intimidate the first-time visitor. Much of the city is a jungle of concrete and wires, with a mass of neon and blaring loudspeakers. At rush hour, crowds jostle in packed trains and masses of humanity sweep through enormous and bewilderingly complex stations. Don't get too hung up on ticking tourist sights off your list: for most visitors, the biggest part of the Tokyo experience is just wandering around at random and absorbing the vibe, poking your head into shops selling weird and wonderful things, sampling restaurants where you can't recognize a single thing on the menu (or on your plate), and finding unexpected oases of calm in the tranquil grounds of a neighbourhood Shinto shrine. It's all perfectly safe, and the locals will go to sometimes extraordinary lengths to help you if you just ask.

I never have any travel plans. Wandering is what I do.

While Adam and I were having our Starbucks wedding conversation yesterday, I realized that the people who typically are opinionated in weddings -- mothers -- have not been when it's come to us. Both of our mothers have basically said mazel tov, you tell us when and where and we'll be there. Awesome!

Who you tryin to get crazee wid, ese?
Don't you know I'm loco?

- Cypress Hill

Something borrowed, something boozed

On the way home from Southern California yesterday, Adam and I stopped for coffee and stood outside in the windy warmth, holding our paper Starbucks cups. "We wanted the easiest, most low-key thing possible," I said. "I thought if anyone could pull it off, it would be us."

"I know," he said.

I'm learning that a wedding, no matter how low-key, opens the door to everyone's opinions and preferences:

Why are you ...
Why aren't you ...
Why don't you invite ...
Why can't you have it here ...
Why can't you have it on this date ...
Why aren't you doing it the way we did it?

It could be that a wedding is a ritualistic opening of the relationship to everyone for their buy-in, a public seeking of approval. In any event, I have two very strong and conflicting feelings:

- The party's going to be great.
- If I had the chance to do it again, I probably wouldn't have the damn party at all.

Home

The car is parked, Oliver is purring, dinner will be eaten sometime soon. We are home. I am glad.

Get out the map
Get out the map and lay your finger anywhere down
Well leave the figuring to those we pass on our way out of town
Don't drink the water there seems to be something ailing everyone
I'm gonna clear my head
I'm gonna drink that sun
I'm gonna love you good and strong while our love is good and young

- Indigo Girls

Spent the night hanging out at my brother's with his roommates and buddies, smoking hookah and watching Ghost in a Teeny Bikini. Beautiful.

My mother cleaned out the garage and found a school journal I apparently kept in either second or third grade. An excerpt:

February 26, 1982. I would like to be a puppy because they are very cute and fluffy and people like them a lot. People are not scared of them. I would not like anyone to be scared of me. A puppy can run free in the street. But most of all, people would love me A LOT.

Hello, San Diego

Listening to my mother's insane stories from the ER while she makes dinner. Happy Thanksgiving!

"These days, delays at Kennedy are so bad, he said, 'They're backing up the entire country.' "

Gee, I wouldn't know anything about that.

This story has the greatest picture!

I love monkeys!

“ 'There’s a difference between love as it is presented in movies and music as this jazzy sexy thing that involves bikini underwear and what love actually turns out to be,' said the psychologist Mary Pipher, whose book 'Another Country' looked at the emotional life of the elderly. 'The really interesting script isn’t that people like to have sex. The really interesting script is what people are willing to put up with.'”

A really amazing New York Times article on the various meanings of love, up to and including Sandra Day O'Connor's extremely unselfish joy at her husband's discovery of new passion.

My experience? Sex isn't the difficult part. You're stoked when you find it with someone who's awesome, and you share that sizzle and those romps. Companionship is harder -- I'm marrying my best drinking buddy, and I'm stoked. Working through the tough shit -- the fights in the kitchen, the angry and turned back in the bed -- now that takes a hell of a lot.

Adam and I have had our share of strife. The upside is that that strife, nearly 95 percent of the time if not more, leads to a greater shared understanding of one another.

And to the occasional throwing of a remote control.

Great night

Hung out with Carl and Joseph in Russian Hill and had dinner at Miller's East Coast Deli on Polk. A little bit of NYC on the Left Coast. Carl and Joseph got along well, which wasn't surprising. It was a really fun time.

One for the quote file

When I make a documentary about you, there's going to be a whole chapter on farting. - Adam

No, the irony is not lost on me

Blogging about fighting through Facebook:

2:50 am: Adam pisses me off about something stupid.
2:51 am: I change my Facebook status to "Allison is wishing Adam would stop screwing with the software needed for her digital recorder and actually listen to the damn thing," or something stupid like that.
2:52 am: Snap at Adam.
2:53 am: Change status to "Allison is being petty."
2:56 am: Heartfelt conversation over. Grilled cheese is being made.
2:57 am: I change my Facebook status to "Allison is getting grilled cheese made for her."

I am so meta. I make myself barf.

Some people bring a book into the bathroom. Adam brings his MACbook. Sometimes I'm amazed at what I'm marrying.

I'm home!

US Air sucks balls, and for a while I thought I'd have to spend the night in Vegas (which if I were single would be fine, but when I have a boy waiting for me with Nation's burgers no less, I don't think so!), but I am HOME!

What an amazing, awesome trip. New York gives me tons of energy and confirms that I may yet be crazy, but I'm crazy in a New Yorker way, which makes it all right.

A few pictures for now. I hope to get the recording of my Speakeasy story up later today or tomorrow.

Speakeasy ruled!

It was wonderful. Thanks to Sherry, who coordinated it all, and Lisa, who not only came out from Bushwick to see it, but made sure I got to Veselka (where I am now) afterward.

I got a recording. It'll be posted soon, hopefully. Great, great night!

Tons of work coming up. Great for my bank balance, tough on my time. Since I don't plan to spend what little time remains in New York tied to my laptop, I'll have to put in my hours when I get home. And, more than likely, while in Southern Cal as well.

Speakeasy Stories tonight

It's at 8:30 pm. I'm nervous as always, but I like the story and I think it's perfect for the show.

It's raining here in New York. I had pierogies for lunch. I'm doing pretty darn well.

I love New York

Really, that is all that needs to be said.

What do YOU think we were talking about?

ADAM (squinting at the screen): Is she really a grandma? I don't believe she's a grandma.
ME (picking out some crappy song on YouTube): Dude. She can be like 15 and be a grandma.

Very appropriate for tonight

"Go East, Young Writers, For Theater!"

Tracy Chapman

I've been listening to Tracy Chapman a lot lately. I love her. I love her voice, her songs, her lack of pretense, her strength.

I've seen her perform live twice: at UC Berkeley's Greek Theater and at The Catalyst in Santa Cruz. Adam came with me to that second performance and I'd like to think I showed him the ways of the Tracy that night. Then again, I think he was just amused by the extremely polite Santa Cruz crowd and adorable gay men in the audience that night.

I cannot fucking wait to be in New York!

Work patterns

I blog a lot while I work. I surf the web too, and I check my email, and I send messages to my boyfriend, and I listen to YouTube videos. This would not be considered proper office etiquette. It is a damn good thing, then, that I do not work in an office, nor do I ever intend to do so again.

There is fiction in the space between
You and reality
You will do and say anything
To make your everyday life seem less mundane

- Tracy Chapman

The stars are blazing like rebel diamonds

Cut out of the sun. It started with this video -- sort of -- and in less than a month, I'm going to be in Tokyo!

A Matter of Trust

Listening to Billy Joel. This song puts me in a Brooklyn mood, no question.

He is trying to speak from the heart. But the heart is riddled with error upon error. The heart makes no grammatical sense. The heart has only flashes of linguistic flair.

- Marilyn Abildskov, The Men in My Country

A change of plan

I'm not going to talk about porn and PCOS at Speakeasy. Instead, I'm going to tell the Princess Carolyn story. Funnier, if a little less meaningful. Entertaining nonetheless.

Midway through watching U2's "Where the Streets Have No Name" on YouTube, Adam and I hear something.

ME: What the hell's that?
ADAM (not looking up from the computer): I dunno. Cats fucking.

Sure enough. Jesus, they're loud. On top of the Farm no less. I don't even think Oliver woke up. I doubt he remembers what it was like to have balls. I know human men who are probably much the same.

Oliver update

In real time -- because you wanted to know:

Just got off the phone with the Humane Society. Oliver's out of surgery and awake. The doctor's supposed to call in a few minutes to go over how it went.

ME: I'll bet he had extractions.
ADAM: That fucker.
ME: That fucker.

I'm seriously close to crying. With happiness. I hope everything went okay. Would it sound totally stupid to say I'm proud of him?

A teeth cleaning for Oliver

My 18-year-old tabby's at the Berkeley-East Bay Humane Society right now, getting his nasty teeth cleaned. It's a risky operation as they have to put him under (would YOU want to clean a cat's teeth while he was awake? I don't think so!) and an expensive one at that -- I'm looking at anywhere from $440-$840, depending on if there are extractions, and the number of extractions if any.

As long as that fucker comes out okay, I'm good. But as I told the vet assistant when she called to confirm the estimate: That guy can't even hold down a job!

Heard at tonight's reading

"The 21st century is a hoax."

Wow. Glad to see you know better than just about anyone else.

All I ever wanted from my life

Back from acting class, sitting warm and comfy on the couch between Adam and Oliver, getting ready to make PB&J and chocolate-chip cookies ... at quarter to midnight. Planning trips to New York, Tokyo, Prague and Budapest, with stops in Austin and Southern California along the way.

Also, listening to this song. Classic.

Homeland employee suspended for offensive Halloween costume

This is pretty fucked up. He or she deserves suspension. What an astonishing lack of judgment.

When I'm in NYC, I'm going to go meet with the folk at the TONY Lounge to check out the venue and talk possible collaborations in the future. I'm also going to query SF-area venues about longer runs. I'm on my way!

From Liz

In an email today:

"Tim said something really cool about the two of you last night... something along the lines of they look like they have tons of fun together doing great stuff. I think he hit the nail on the head."

Everyone's always telling Adam and I how great we are together. They're damn right.

CHERISH
by Raymond Carver

From the window I see her bend to the roses
holding close to the bloom so as not to
prick her fingers. With the other hand she clips, pauses and
clips, more alone in the world
than I had known. She won't
look up, not now. She's alone
with roses and with something else I can only think, not
say. I know the names of those bushes

given for our late wedding: Love, Honor, Cherish--
this last the rose she holds out to me suddenly, having
entered the house between glances. I press
my nose to it, draw the sweetness in, let it cling--scent
of promise, of treasure. My hand on her wrist to bring her close,
her eyes green as river-moss. Saying it then, against
what comes: wife, while I can, while my breath, each hurried petal
can still find her.

New York, here I come!

It's been an irritating week on a few fronts, so I'm looking forward to blowing off some steam at Sherry Weaver's excellent Speakeasy Stories on Nov. 15. I plan to tear off the roof and discuss my love of porn -- and, in particular, how it makes me want to be a real woman -- so bring some protective headgear and show up, won't you?

Cell phone jammers rise in popularity

“ 'If anything characterizes the 21st century, it’s our inability to restrain ourselves for the benefit of other people,' said James Katz, director of the Center for Mobile Communication Studies at Rutgers University.”

This story's been going on under the radar, so to speak, for years. Very interesting.

Central Park, Davis

At Berkeley Espresso

Adam looked at the computer screen, then at me. "I never would've done this before I met you," he said, laughing.

We're booked for Tokyo, Dec. 3-13.