I had a weird phone conversation with my old friend last night. The background story is that my parents came back to America temporarily and emailed me a 617 area code to call them on. I had a missed call from a 617 number in my phone and instead looking up my parents number to confirm it was the same, I decided to assume the missed 617 number was theirs, forgetting that I recently replaced my phone, hardly have any of my friends numbers, and it could have been anyone from Boston:
Phone Call #1
Julia: [listens as phone rings, rings, rings]
phone voice: Hey, yo.
Julia: Um, are you my father?
phone voice: Are you for real?
Julia: Um... [CLICK. I hang up the phone]
Phone Call #2
Julia: [Gains composure. Realizes that "hey, yo" is from her old high school friend Jon, and calls back. Ring, ring]
Julia: HI JON, HOW WAS INDIA?
My computer died a week ago. It was a sad death involving a chair, a stucco floor, and lots of error signs & html code. Since 2005, when I bought my computer w/ the remaining money I'd saved from my Ford Fellowship, I've lived in 5 different apartments (Middletown CT, Bushwick, more Bushwick, Parkslope, & Sunset Park). You learn to pack light & to avoid accumulation. But computers can accumulate & it's okay. So I'm sad to have lost it & all the unfinished poems I hadn't backed up. My little home has burned up. I saved a few photos (which weren't eaten by my computer) I hadn't deleted from my camera so I'm posting those miscellaneous ones below:
This is pretty much what happened on 2009 Low Key New Years:
very rich tiramisu,
a hearth fire,
a raccoon-face-hat worn by all,
lots of self-portraits and portaits,
lots of champagne that culminated in forgetting how to get home even though I was already home: