Posted 11:22 PM by Michelle
I know I should have at the very least written a blog by now, but I'll tell you this: there are two written, sitting on my not-remotely-working laptop. But here's the quick rundown:

Working already, nice people, terrific wine, overwhelmed, exhausted.

More later!

Turn your clocks back an hour!

Posted 9:07 PM by Michelle
My apartment is empty and clean. It always bothers me that I will clean more thouroughly for strangers than I will for myself. I like this place empty; it feels as though it was too cluttered the whole time I lived here. Of course I had an ailing cat, whose cage was larger than anything but my bed, but I think I also just tried to fit too much stuff in here. It's such a beautiful space, regardless of the absurd rent. If this place were about $500 a month, I'd say it was perfect.

All last winter, I froze. The heat in this building was never high enough to be comfortable, and every night I slept not just under two quilts but often also had a wool coat or two thrown over the top. Tonight? My last night in this space? Well, our landlord has graced us with his presence and now my room is so hot the windows are wide open.

Today I saw some of the friends I'm really going to miss, and missed some friends who I was supposed to see. It was a hectic day. But tonight, with Mac, Jordi, Mike J., Jon F., "Tess", and Seth, I saw a play that Jordana wrote (terrific) and another play where Sean was brilliant- too brilliant to be doing anything other than, well, stuff the quality of Mr. Mac Rogers. It was terrific to have so many Virtual Cribbers (a years-old email list) in one place.

I saw Ian for a few minutes today when I loaded yet another box (and a borrowed TV) into the Land Rover. He was headed upstate to unload the boxes, quite literally in a snow storm and all by himself. Sean came by to pick up a case and a half of wine and about a hundred pounds of food. And then dinner after the show, with everyone above, but most importantly with Sean, Jordi, and Tessa, who with Ian have become a family so dear to me I can barely leave them. On the way home, I tried to tell Tessa how important she is to me, for a hundred reasons, how happy I am to know her, and to know she loves my brother, and how thankful I am to have her in my life. I also told her that Ian has become one of the most willing and giving people I know, that he wants to be the guy that comes through in a jam, and that the orbit of people who surround him are a testament to the kind of guy he is. He is the guy who brings people together.

But my goodbye with Sean and Jordana was short. Sean is the best actor I know. With the best wife-to-be I know. He will always come through even if it is a royal pain in the ass. He will always treat you like you are worth it. He will always welcome you. And Jordana, god, I can barely begin. She has embraced me, been good to me on a level that far exceeds family duty, and she's not even officially family yet. I trust that Sean will be okay, and most of the time amused, if she sticks around. She is also one of the best actors I know. I can't believe how lucky he is. I can't believe how lucky I am.

The best, most interesting, most funny and kind, most talented and most fascinating people I've met have been through this lucky foursome I call my New York family. Chip, Mac, Scott, James, Lori, Jon, Kellie, Salem, Rick... there are a hundred more. These names may mean nothing to most of you but they mean the world to me. These people and their families, and their friends have made a lasting impression on me of the kind of people I want in my life. I can call them my friends only because my brothers and sisters called them friends first, and I am so thankful, so ridiculously grateful.

And now I'm off to do a final 1 AM cleaning, a final trying to shove everything in my mountain of a bag. (Which reminds me- I promise not to tell anymore dorky stories like the one from yesterday about the novice photographer. I mean, you can't take me seriously if I do.) In six hours I will say a final goodbye to this apartment, and my time in New York, and though I know I'll be back, it won't be until I have a damn good reason to return.

Posted 8:49 AM by Michelle
So, like I've mentioned, I'm working on a novel. There are theories floating around about the content of my novel, but I haven't actually told anyone. Which brings me to two little stories. Forgive me if I've told them before:

There was once a novice photographer who was apprenticed to a great master. Every year the novice would bring a stack of photos for the master to approve or reject. As the years passed, the master chose more and more of the photos, and the reject pile got smaller and smaller. But there was one photo that the master saw year after year, even though each time he tossed it to that pile. Every year, the novice would slip it back into his offering to the master. Finally, after ten years of rejecting the picture, the master held it up to the novice. "I've rejected this for years, and yet, you keep asking me to look at it again. Why?" The novice, abashed, looked at his toes. "Because I had to climb a mountain to get that picture." "Doesn't matter," said the master. "It's a bad picture. Doesn't matter what you had to do to get it."

Story #2, from the New York Times:

WASHINGTON (AP) -- Congress is set to ban a specific abortion procedure, a legislative landmark that could lead to a fierce legal fight affecting a woman's right to end a pregnancy. The ban on what opponents call partial birth abortion is likely to pass by a wide margin when it comes up for a vote scheduled in the Senate on Tuesday.


So what, pray tell, do these stories have to do with one another? And with me? I recently read the fifth chapter of my book. And I had a great and disappointing revelation: my book is a sweet little story, but ultimately, it means exactly nothing to me. It's not even the stuff of a short story. It's something you might tell your friends as you are road-tripping across Nebraska, and I say this without even knowing how it was going to end.

But I had to climb more than one mountain to get as far as I have in this book. It's been a difficult thing, to let go of it, to realize that it is not the story I am burning to tell. Reading the New York Times every morning reminds me of what is terribly, terribly important to me. I don't even feel the need to write down every stupid evil inflicted on my country by the current playboy in charge. But I do need to write something that matters to me, that drives me. I may keep parts of what I've written; I don't know. I do know that there is a better story out there, waiting for me, dancing on the periphery, begging me to sit down in front of a blank page.

It might be yet another mountain to climb, but eventually I'm bound to find the right peak, right? Geeze. I hope so.

Posted 2:53 PM by Michelle
Two more days. I'm grappling with overwhelming feelings of thankfulness, so much so that I barely know where to begin. I'm moving to California where my father and stepmother have opened up their home and life to me, where I have an instant support network when things get hard, where I will never go hungry, where, for at least a short time, I won't have to worry about affording the very roof over my head.

I have my mom, who I've called several times between 2 and 5 AM because I know I can, who has talked me off a theoretical ledge more times than I can count, whose first impulse is to give and help and say yes.

Ian is showing up for the second time tomorrow to help me manage all of my stuff. And Sean, who is even *thinking* about taking me to the airport early Thursday morning, even though he has a show the night before, and one the night of, and that he will have to drive all the way to Brooklyn from Queens and then to JFK and then back to Queens. That he didn't say, Seriously? You want me to do that AGAIN? Because he's done that very trip so many times before.

I called the folks at my new job today, just to check in but really to find out when I will get my first paycheck (as I'm down to $19). "We were just talking about you!" the HR person exclaimed. "This Friday, right? You are still coming? We are so excited!"

So many people helping me, so many people believing in me, and while this is a lot of pressure in a way, it is also a confirmation of what I already know:

I will not let these people down.

Posted 8:49 PM by Michelle
Only three full days left in New York. I spent today with Hayley, brunching and wandering first Park Slope, then the East Village, and finally at the Living Room to see Heather Greene spin her singer-songwriter magic. If you haven't heard her, you really ought. It's one of those things when you are so glad your friends are talented. I mean, what are you supposed to do if they're not?

I am really thankful that I had insurance this year. My health issues have been well documented, and the Peace Corps even reimbursed all of my related co-pays. However. I've had a brand new problem lately and it is starting to get scary. If you are a New Yorker, you've seen the ads on the subways that say, "I can live with foot pain. But why should I?" and there is some hotty blonde holding on to her four-inch high heel in one hand, balanced, foot in the air behind her. I'm starting to learn something: you can't actually live with foot pain. Not when the pain is suddenly so terrible you find yourself crying out.

I'm pretty sure I have either PLANTAR FASCIITIS or HEEL SPUR SYNDROME, according to my online research. This is what it warns:

Plantar fascia pain usually begins as a mild pain to either the arch area or the bottom of the heel.  The discomfort in the foot is usually most noticeable with the first step in the morning and seems to improve after a period of "warming up" the foot.  If untreated, the pain can become intolerable...Because Heel Spur Syndrome and Plantar Fasciitis is an inflammatory condition, early intervention is essential to stop the repeated scarring of the Plantar Fascia that can lead to irreversible shortening of the Plantar Fascia, nerve entrapment and the formation of a painful adventitious bursa.

Yikes! I don't want an irreversible shortened plantar fascia with a painful adventitious bursa! Christ! I'm only 31 years old! The hemorrhoids were my fault because of the cycling. My cervix ended up being right as rain. But my poor feet! I wonder if it is again related to cycling, or perhaps my cycling shoes, but I can't really figure out what I changed in the last three or four months that would create radical foot pain. And radical it is- sometimes when I've been sitting I get up and simply cannot stay up because my feet scream. Methinks that insurance or no, I must get to a podiatrist. I've been trying the home remedies but my angry fascia is having none of it.

My landlord still has not turned on the heat. I can almost see my breath. This week in California? 85 degrees. Heh heh.