I have to admit it, I've had a hard time getting into the holiday spirit this year.
Maybe it's lack of routine, or it being the first Xmas in a strange city. Maybe it's the fact that I rarely venture anywhere besides work and my apartment. Whatever the reason, the press of merriment has yet to penetrate my emotional matrix.
Or had, I should say. Yesterday, in spite of my resistance, NYC delivered. I spent the day at the office, a lone illuminated desk in a dark loft on Broadway in SoHo. In between drawing Candy in Space (don't ask, I won't elaborate), I was working on a super secret holiday project. As I worked, I noticed a faint saxaphone being played, out on the street. I turned off my requisite sad bastard music and listened, and the player was running through some rudimentary Xmas classics. The light had shifted, that 4pm gloaming when it turns all milky pink, not the warm light of a summer sunset, but the pastel, nordic type.
Accompanying the sax player was the din of horns, buses, crowds bustling by 2 stories below, and I started to feel it, then. The feeling of walking through a department store with your mom's hand in yours, catching glimpses of twinkling lights in evergreen, red satin, gold. The smell of chestnuts, roasting on the proverbial open fire of a street cart.
I left work around 10pm to go meet a friend for some much needed karaoke. The place was up on 35th, and as I exited the train I found myself in the thick of holiday crowds. I accidentally walked an avenue (those are the long ones, for all you non-new yorkers) in the wrong direction.
As I walked, Sufjan's "Come On! Let's Boogey to the Elf Dance!" came on the iPod. I joined the crowd, slowing my typical pace to a tourist-rate crawl. I looked at the amazing windows at Macy's. I felt the cold wind on my cheeks.
I turned down 35th (which is a dark alley by comparison), and Mogwai's "2 Rights Make 1 Wrong" came on. If ever there was a song written to make one feel like It's All Going To Be Alright, that's the one. As I emerged into Herald Sq., as the song crescendoed, I was struck by the main Macy's windows, kids laughing, the Empire State Building right before me, lit up in red and green. The platonic Xmas. The archetype.
I smiled as I walked past, towards the new year.
The holidays are nearly upon us, and with the swell of parties, travel, and reunions, there are sure to be many people you haven't seen in some time. Invariably, one or two of those people may have broken up with a longtime partner. To help you navigate the icy waters of Conversations About Exes, I've decided to compile this handy guide:
1. DON'T ask "what happened between you and ______?"
This is an impossible question to answer without a lengthy and/or difficult story. Most likely, the person has retold the story in varying degrees to friends and family since the breakup, and repeating it to satisfy your curiosity is like peeling the scab back.
2. DO ask "how are you doing?"
This is an easy question. It allows the person to decide the depth in which they want to delve, or if they simply want to sidestep the issue with a "I'm fine, thanks." This is their perogative
3. DON'T speak ill of the Ex.
I know it seems supportive to call your friend's Ex a fucking bastard or lying bitch. Don't. Don't assume that A) the breakup was antagonistic, B) even if it was, it was the Ex's fault. People change. They grow apart. Your friend might love his Ex more than ever, they just might not be compatible as parters any more (or, say, she became a Lesbian, for example.)
It's kind of like making fun of someone's sister. It's OK if THEY do it, but for you it's verboten. Besides, what if they get back together? It'll be weird.
4. DO speak well of your friend.
Say something positive, like "I'm sure you'll come out of this better for it." Try not to say things like "Plenty of other fish in the sea!" or even "I know you'll find someone who gets you." That can come across like replacing a dead puppy when they're not done mourning the old dog.
5. DON'T assume ANYTHING about the relationship/breakup.
You always saw him flirting with other girls? Don't assume he cheated. She was obsessed with fashion? Don't assume she was distant. You can't know the intricacies of a long-term relationship, nor should you fill in the blanks or just Dr. Phil the shit out of it. Things happen.
and while we're on the subject....
6. DON'T Dr. Phil the shit out of the situation.
I know it's hard to escape the temptation to psychoanalyze your friend's breakup. Our analysis life and psychobabbly pop culture (Dr. Phil fucking included) makes it very tempting to try to "break it down" for your friend as to why it didn't work out, or his or her Ex's "issues". But you're not a psychoanalyst, and you shouldn't be. You're their friend.
7. DO encourage your friend to talk about how they feel, if THEY bring it up.
Don't say things like "It's OK, you don't have to be strong around me." if they ask you what kind of wine you're having. If they break down, put your arm around them. Go for a walk with them. Support them, LISTEN. Even when they ask things like "Why did he leave?", don't try to explain it. Say "I don't know, sweetie." Because it's honest, and all they want at that moment is to feel comforted.
8. DON'T assume any change in your friend's routine or lifestyle is because the other person was "holding them back".
If your friend has suddenly started smoking, eating pork, or moved across the country, don't jump to the conclusion that it was the Ex all this time, holding them back. Maybe they want a change. Maybe the Ex encouraged them to follow their dreams, even if it meant breaking up. Again, you don't know. So don't make a big deal about it.
9. DON'T gossip about it with other people.
Just don't. It just ends up hurting someone, most likely your friend.
10.DON'T take sides.
This is tricky, especially in cases of antagonistic and angry breakups. But the general rule is, if you were both of their friends before they started dating, OR you hung out with them both as a couple and individually, do not take sides. It hurts to lose your lover. Don't make it worse by taking away their friend, too. The Ex is going to have a lot of losses, as is your friend. Try not to be one of them, to either of them.*
* This is especially tricky when it comes to family, but feel it out. If your son/daughter/brother/sister/mother/father break up with their partner, try to feel out if they mind you keeping in touch. Certainly you shouldn't be sneaky about it, but you should be able to maintain that relationship, if it was strong in the first place. It sucks losing a parent or brother because of a breakup, especially if your own family life is subpar.
11. DO call the Ex by name.
Don't refer to them as "ex-". That's so negative, so final. It also crosses that other person off an imaginary list. Say their name. They're not fucking Voldemort.
12. DON'T put your arm around them, say "Fuck it. Shit happens. Let's get a drink."
Actually, DO do that.
Happy Holidays
While working from home today, I have the TV on. There's an infomercial for this device called the "Sonic Knife" (basically a hyped-up electirc knife), and it has had positive GEMS of marketing. My favourite:
"Even if you've never used a knife before!"
WHAT? Who the fuck hasn't used a KNIFE before? A knife? Seriously.
Another precious nugget was:
"You can cube anything, even the hardest thing to cube, CHEESE!" (My emphasis)
I think there are more difficult things in the world to cube than cheese.
Sorry, Sonic Knife. Not buying it.
I sat in my car outside what I figured was the house for a long time. It was cold out, I wore that leather bomber jacket, but I can't remember the month or the day. It must've been cold enough in Austin for the jacket - I wouldn't have worn for fashion's sake.
I finally worked up the nerve to go in, and realized quickly I didn't know anyone there. I recognized some of Kelly's exes, and spoke to one of them, but mostly I just stood around, listening to music.
I felt like I should go. Rose was nowhere to be found (she had left before I arrived), and there's nothing worse than an unfamiliar party. I went outside and saw Earnest (again, through Kelly), and said hello. I sat for a minute on the balcony, at this tiny table, across from you. I noticed you, of course, but I didn't know you. I'd seen you around town, but you were one of the cool kids, you guys ran Austin (or so I thought, at the time).
I can't remember who spoke to who first, but I have to believe it was you. I can't imagine I would've been that bold. I think I bummed a cigarette from you (as i'm known to do when I have nothing else to say). Somehow it came out you were from Mass. The conversation from there's a blur.
I remember you taking my picture.
After we'd stood by the side of the house, and I couldn't decide to whether I should put my hands in my pockets or not, I think I said I should go. I can't remember if you asked me to stay. I like to imagine you did. When I got into my car, I knew I should've kissed you. I didn't know if I'd ever get the chance again.
I bought a new wallet today.
I've had my old wallet for 8 years. I bought it in preparation for my wedding day. It wasn't anything remarkable, a black leather CK twofold. It was, however, my first adult wallet, the first one I'd bought for an adult purpose. I wanted something that would fit slimly and snugly in my suit pocket, because I wanted to look my best.
Since then, I've carried that wallet nearly every day, in my back pocket, right side. It's been in my pocket during some of the best times I've had. It was (accidentally) in my board shorts when I dove off a cliff in Maui. It was the first thing I thought about when I jumped from an airplane (in the form of "oh shit, my wallet!". Thankfully, it was on the ground with my other stuff already.). It's been reformed from it's original, slightly glossy state to pockmarked, bent and patina-d.
It contained, within it's myriad pockets: old love notes from college, photo-booth photos, medical info, fake license (proclaiming I was cleared for 'Celebrity Sexing"), fortunes, receipts from our engagement dinner and from her engagement ring, never very much cash, and one simple note I looked at weekly.
The wallet I chose to replace it is smaller, more modest in it’s goals. It’s more like my life now, more simple, more compact, but a lot of the old totems couldn’t make the voyage from old to new. So I sat on the steps of the shop in Soho and I went through, piece by piece, and put what mattered now in the new wallet. The other items went into my bag, to be discarded or lost or squirreled away, but not to ride beside me anymore.
I cried about it more than I had expected.
Arab Strap - Islands
We were lying in bed, staring at the moon,
and I was wondering if I was supposed to be in love.
But we couldnt quite decide if the moon was full,
but I thought, well, tonight its full enough.
And this morning I was casually trying to sniff my fingers on the way back home.
I could smell you and I felt like a little boy.
Now we've been on these open seas far too long
so take a breath, take my hand, there's land ahoy.
we woke up late, beside each other, and went downstairs
and we pulled the box from the high shelf, in the laundry room
and the dress was inside, filled as if with a living body
and we opened it, together, and pulled the cellophane aside
and all the air trapped beneath, 7 years old, mingled with our breath
and we knelt as in prayer, and wept
and held each other
and the box went to the curb
and the dress went on a hanger, in her closet
and became just a dress
and we became just ourselves, again.
What books are on your nightstand?
great. awesome. thanks for pointing out i don't have a nightstand. or an apartment. or a bed. you REALLY know how to cut a guy down.
What are the 5 words that best describe your life right now?
Question submitted by mojito.
Simply. Having. A. Wonderful. Christmastime.
when you stand at the edge of manhattan, either on the east side or west, it’s not difficult to imagine the city itself as a seething, swelling wave, rising up towards you. Each building cascades into the next, the sheer mass, the inescapable density is enough to scare you out of the water. It’s the biggest wave you’ve ever seen, far bigger than any you’ve ever surfed in the past, and when you get past the excitement, when the full realization of what you’re up against quickly fills you, there in your stomach is a nut of fear. You know you don’t have to surf it, that you can paddle to the side and let the enormous crushing energy of millions of lives pass you by while you water for something more familiar.
But you’re not here to watch the show, you’re here to star. And you know even before the wave is upon you that it’s going to be the hardest thing you’ve ever tried. That very real possibility of faltering is hovering at the edge of your consciousness, waiting to greet you should you look in it’s direction. But you put it out of your mind and you go, drop in, know that this is going to take the best you’ve ever done, that if you can take every drop of your experience and add to it enouh courage to fill in the gaps...
And you’ll find yourself on the face of it, that churning crushing compressive force just beneath your bare feet, and you’re on it, and you’re its hood ornament for as long as you want to be or as long as your luck holds, and then you’ll pull away and know why you’re there.
that’s why i’m here. that nut of fear-that’s where the glory of life sprouts.
