I was packing until midnight. Television until after one a.m. to fall asleep, finally. Then up at six, shower, dog, repacking. . . Enough clothes for a week, and it’s only a long weekend.
My hair, wet. Now headed to the station. And they’re showing previews of The Taking of Pelham 123, the remake. In the subway? Whose idea was that?
Station A: Eyeliner.
Station B: Mascara.
Station C: Cheeks.
A long weekend. Amazing. I haven’t had one of those in years. There will be art. No being woken by the dog before light. What an idea, even if the logistics of preparation are crazy – kids, fridge, emergency money, extra keys, neighbors checking in. Instructions and rules. More than usual.
THOUGHT: How many forbidden parties will actually take place?
Three entire days. Maybe I’ll meet someone. I know I’m middle aged, but I’m not dead. Hmm. Sex. I haven’t thought about that in a while. Casual sex? No, I don’t do that anymore. What do I do, then? Formal sex? What might that be? Sex with gloves and pearls? Or is the opposite of casual sex dressing for sucksex? Ohmygod, that was pitiful. Puns before coffee. Puns on the run. Word play as foreplay. Yes. Always good to keep the mind occupied before a flight.
CONSIDERATION: Is word play as foreplay part of the mysterious “something” that drains from most marriages? Does that explain the accumulation of disinterest over the years?
No pun, no fun. No rhyme, bad time.
No. It couldn’t be as simple as that. But it must be a factor; surely laughter and play are essential to connection, and connection is essential to real intimacy. And intimacy leads to… well… the good stuff.
THOUGHT: Sex and The City. That great line – “people having sex in Connecticut?”
I loved that line. I’m all too familiar with cool New England etiquette. But then, I’m here, the product of a New England coupling. The result of bundling perhaps, a much revered tradition in cold climates. Before sex became casual or formal, straight or kinky, online or offline. Before we all categorized our moves, our affinities, our tastes, our everything. Before sex came with forums, visuals, props, crops, and health warning STOPs.
Next stop: City Center.
Damn. It’s later than I like. Why in the hell did I repack that bag?
Touch up the lips. Find the watch at the bottom of the purse. Turn on the cell phone. Ponder San Francisco. Breathe. Yes, San Francisco…
I never left my heart there. Other places, yes. When I was younger. I’ve lost the habit of leaving my heart – or giving it. But I suspect, with the right magic, I’d learn how again. Who knows what can happen when you travel? Possibilities. A sense of possibilities, a breath of freedom.
The City by the Bay. I have friends there. I love its energy, its colors, its insistent hills, its museums, its misty skies.
REALITY: Everything is intensified when you aren’t on your own turf. When you’re out of your element.
REALITY: Sometimes we are more ourselves when we are out of our element.
AIRPORT Station. Now the scramble. People everywhere. It’s rush hour, after all. Electronic check-in. Fast but annoying. Having to check a bag – even for a long weekend. Well, a long weekend with enough stuff to last a week. You never know. I just might stay. I might lose my heart. I might need to be dressed, for anything.