Forgetting where I left off

Already next week is full. How is that again? Yes, next week’s calendar is full and it hasn’t even arrived yet. Playdates galore for Tin, work goals for me, and Jazz Fest starts on Friday. My Jazz Fest junkie days are gone, perhaps, because I only have a ticket for each weekend and I know the second weekend is Saturday, but the first is still up in the air as to which day I’ll go. Am I nonplussed? I seem to be when it has to do with this festival that I have held up on a pedestal for so long.

Today, I get to walk a block to Fortier Festival and hear Walter Wolfman Washington and Allen Toussaint – really? Like in the pocket park a block from my house? Yep. Tomorrow it’s Earth Day with Panorama and the Stooges Brass Band. A few more blocks away. Nuts huh?

Right now I’m moving from one event to the next, each one is fleeting: hi, yes, sip sip, yawn, k, later – someone put in an email recently “am in crunch time” – another wrote “not one day on my calendar to do laundry” – another said, “talk to me now cuz I’m about to drive off this bridge and everything is out of control” and I am sticking to my usual refrain, “No time to spit.”

In the light of day, juggling is easy. It’s the night time where things slow to a rhythmic dance full of ghosts and fantasy. Last night, I watched skinny friends try on skinny jeans as I sipped red wine from a plastic cup, then later chatted till the cows came home at Bouligny Tavern munching on tempura green beans and roasted kale. But in bed, I read till my eyes rolled back and dreams swept me into worlds of reddish brown hair growing in abundance from my head, a friend with a fly on his nose, and someone’s button that wouldn’t stay buttoned, two friends leaning in, one with a mysterious new haircut and eyeglasses that made her look like Tina Fey (a change from her goth style).

Then I woke up again, forgetting where I left off… .

3 Responses to “Forgetting where I left off”

  1. Mudd Says:

    Your last paragraph is SO beautiful.
    Would make a great short movie.

    LOVE the way you write!!!

  2. Rachel Says:

    Mudd – thank you for being you first of all, and for being so supportive of me most of all. You know the days of alone-ness, not loneliness, where we are toiling at what we do and then it is there and when no one says, “I saw that” “I heard that” “I felt that” – you slink around corners feeling like it is all for naught and then when someone says they LOVE that as you have said here, you feel a burst of energy – payday – validation – all of the rest of it, so your commenting on and sharing of my work is majorly appreciated. Love, R

  3. Mudd Says:

    You are so authentic… talented… unique — I believe in you BIG TIME.

    more LOVE xox

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