Stiff fingers from the cold feel strange when you’re typing. As if you have to pay attention suddenly to negative feedback. A woman outside is shouting “You filthy little bastard” after someone in a ruined whiskey voice, rough and loud. My neighborhood is interactive. On my way home I was stopped countless times, the ferret a magnet for conversation, but never once asked for change. One scruffy patched hoodie boy said to his army fatigue girl, “What are you doing? She has wings on. Never ask a woman with wings for money, doesn’t matter what she looks like, she’s one of us.”
My morning was spent at first in denial of the time. Road workers set up shop outside my window at 7 a.m. with a !ZHWIM! gun. This woke the ferret, who then spilled an entire pot of cold tea on me in his eagerness to destroy whatever it was making the noise. My eyes were forced to peel open at that point and glare a little at the ceiling. My hand shot out and grabbed his furry body, this was not a loving embrace, mind, this was a I-Am-Tearing-Myself-Out-From-Beneath-A-Toasty-Coverlet-For-You grip, which was then followed by a shivering with wet feet walk to the door, where he was unceremoniously dropped into the hall. There was really no way to get back to sleep after that.
I unpacked slowly until the afternoon came. VISA things were dealt with and eventually Jenn’s was visited. Skatia came with me, he falls asleep on transit. Easy to deal with, a darling to transport. He walks the third degree hill faster than I used to. So many times now, I can feel how I’ve healed. It used to make me cry to scale that slant, to visit her building was murder one step at a time. Now I reach her place as the sun shines brightly. I know I’ve recovered this much at least.
We spent our day together, talking about everything and nothing all at once. Boys and wedding plans, girl things yet not even really. It’s like gossip but it’s all about us. Just catching up while Skatia bell tinkled around her apartment. Her basement laundry room is a fetish photographers dreamspace. Clinical and creepy, but well lit. I wanted a girl in black PVC and a camera so badly I could taste it. Make her be in a miniskirt and big nasty boots. Odd hair would help. Let me make some of those cliche shots.
Kim came home as we were packing up to leave, not soon enough for a proper ferret visit. I’d left my feathered wings and some media. Daytrippers in one pocket with the Heinlin, Smoke & Mirrors on the other leg, everything fitting into my various pockets. On the train she pointed out that our roles have reversed, now I look far more eccentric than she does. The woman who was asked if she does childrens parties has been visually out-weirded by me. With my black wings like they spring from my gentlemans coat and the white ferret in my lap, I could only agree. The difference between us being I don’t do it on purpose. It’s a pity I can’t find my hat.
Downtown Jenn was headed for the Commodore, but I knew the doors wouldn’t have opened so early so I dragged her over to Jay’s office space and we stood by while men carried gear up three flights of steep nasty ankle breaking stairs. He gave me a wristband for New Music West, as was the plan. It’s always nice to see him, however briefly. He knows me well and I know him well. Far more than anyone could possibly expect. It’s an odd tender relationship which means almost nothing. When he’s sick I take care of him, tip-toe around and do his dishes, let him fall asleep with his head in my lap, but when the time comes I never stay the night. He knows me for the way I sneak out, leaving him curled around a pillow or a book. One time soon I will, but not yet. We need to work another show together, I need to cement our one act play interactions a bit more. It comes down to showing face and the intentions involved with such.
I stood with Jenn in line until Steve came and the folk shuffled forward, counted by their plastic card ID. Afterward I walked to the Media Club, intending to meet back up with Jay, but there were too many people for the ferret to handle. Instead I called my strength down from the stars and walked to the Armory. I’d missed Bill, a pity. I guess I’m good at showing up after he’s left from there. I’ve been doing it three years in a row now. On my lapel is my poppy. I will not forget.