two birds

I am a master of conveying large amounts of information in small amounts of time. I have my job to thank for that.

“I want a car.” I’m holding Mark’s mustache, he is taking off his pants.


“So I can drive places. For my blog.”

He sets his watch on the shelf.

“Do you have someone who will buy one for you?”

He unbuttons his shirt, tosses it on the chair and takes another from the rack.

“There is one person, but I’d have to marry him.”

“Is he forty-five percent decent?”

“Ten percent.”

He steps into his pants, tucks in his shirt, slips into his shoes.

“That won’t do. There must be someone else.”

“Maybe one other person.”

“Would you have to sleep with him?”

“That’s not an issue. I’d never get a word in edge-wise, though. Ever again.”

Mustache on. Wig on. Glasses on.

“Might be worth it for the car.”



sadie busHere’s why I want a car. Maine. New Hampshire. Rhode Island. Virginia. West Virginia. Maryland. Delaware… all a car ride away. Nothing could stop me from collecting dating data.

Nothing could stop me from moving. Bouncing around. Seeing the world.

I would be free.

And, I could bring my dog.


“I want a car.”

Nicki and I are at a wine bar, eating fancy cheese.


“I can knock out dates in seven states like that.” I illustrate with a sort of snap. I can’t snap. But I can make it look like I’m snapping. It’s noisy in the bar, so it’s not like she would notice.

“Why don’t you just date someone with a car?”

“Why does everyone want me to date someone for real?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense that you want to date random people just to – do whatever you’re doing.”

“I’m writing about it.”

“Yeah. Okay.”

“I’m studying human nature.”

“I might sleep with a twenty-four year old. I think he’s gay.”

Maybe I should study Nicki instead.

“I should get home to my dog.”

She sips her wine, slowly. She lifts an eyebrow, as it a single facial gesture can add weight to a moment.

I’m not going to do it. I’m not going to ask.

A mysterious smirk teases the corner of her mouth, she tilts her head, just so.

She toys with her glass.

I succumb.

“What makes you think he’s gay?”

“First off, he flirts with all the girls at work.”

“Whose work?”

Nicki’s a freelancer.

“He made out with me after the company Christmas party.”

“Whose company Christmas party?”

She shrugs.

“The one where you were pretending to be me?”

A pregnant pause.

“No… yes.”

“Does he know you have a married boyfriend?”

“I wasn’t me. I was you. And you’re single.”

If I had a car, I could just hop in and leave. IMG_1110

“Second – he’s a virgin. So it’d be a like a Christmas present.”

And I could take my dog with me everywhere. Maine. New Hampshire. Delaware. Kansas.

“Three – I’d offer him an opportunity to see clearly his next steps in his evolution as a man.”

“I just don’t get where you get ‘gay.'”

“Tom walked in on him going down on his boss.”

But then I’d have to find parking.


“He flirts with all the girls, but he never asks any of them out.”


I have wanderlust. I want to sit in a car with my dog by my side and drive and drive and drive. I want to meet people who want to meet me and learn from them. I want to share a laugh, maybe a meal and then drive away, onto the next.

As much as I think there might be love out there for me, for everyone, this world is a mish-mashed haystack hovering between order and entropy. Looking for the right needle require patience, and courage, faith, and luck. Needles are easily broken and bent and crammed into shape with a little care and a lot of manipulation.

I love love. I love being in love and falling in love and making love. I love everything about love.

I’d love to experience that windswept romantic sort of love in my life once more with someone who might stick around.  

I met a guy who told me everything’s better when you’re with someone else because you can experience everything twice – once through your lens and once through theirs. I would love to look through someone else’s eyes while we’re staring at the same thing.

sadie hudsonBut, it doesn’t take an intellectual giant to see that my eyes are the eyes of the universe. And as long as we keep talking, telling stories, sharing pictures, my eyes are your eyes, too. And your eyes are mine.

So, when I’m staying up late to catch a glimpse of the Aurora Borealis or drinking in the coastal beauty of Maine, you are, too. We’re all in this beautiful haystack of a mess together.


“I want to go to Alaska.”

I’m holding Mark’s mustache, he’s taking off his pants.


He sets his watch on the shelf.

“I want to see the Aurora Borealis.”

“Do you have someone who will take you there?”

He unbuttons his shirt, tosses it on the chair and takes another from the rack.

Mustache on. Wig, on. Glasses, on.

“I think I want to go this one alone.”


4 thoughts on “Driving

    • Jessica!

      You are very kind. Thanks for reading!

      Now that things are settled – check out the wish project on Greg’s iphone, too. It’s evolving, but it’s a good idea of where I’m going with it.

      (moveable feast app – Do You Know What a Wish is – the picture in the library of tours has red flowers on the Central Park John Lennon Imaging tiles). Let me know what you think!

      I miss you guys, too. Next time I’m in town, we’ll spend more time together…

  1. So i say rent a car, its cheaper than buying and you don’t have to worry about parking so much, and Juan says if you rent a car for a week its cheaper but then you have to worry about parking.

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