O.J. Simpson is not in jail

"I don't know, but I have a hunch that what you're gonna find can't be categorized or easily referenced."

- F. Mulder (C. Carter)

I was standing in the middle of 23rd street last night. I stopped to take a note. Then I thought, "wait a minute, I think my cell phone records memos...I'll use technology!" I start scrolling through the menus. 'Voice mail.' Nope. 'Messaging.' Nope. Scrolly scrolly. I decide I should keep a notepad. It was 10:30p. Someone scary zig-zags by me forcefully kicking a squashed soda can. I look up. What am I doing? I put the phone away and continue looking for a place...wine bar-y...quiet pub-y...after dinner desert-y place to meet Greg for a wind down whatever. He's been in tech rehearsals all day and I just came from a friend's show that really wound me up.

I keep wandering, up Broadway closer to Greg's rehearsal?...no...too dark...back down 5th...across 20th...back up 6th...where am I going? I find that each time I cross 5th, Broadway, 6th, 7th...I look South. Huge, beautiful white beams light up the sky. I try to take a picture. My phone alerts me this option is full. I decide I should get a real camera. I keep wandering and feel myself hit an endurance wall. I've been walking an awful lot today. I just got over the flu. I'm exhausted. I leave Greg another message, "I'm sorry honey, I just couldn't find a place and now I'm tired. I'll meet you at home. I love you." I head West. I think.

Everytime I pass an avenue I overhear someone mention the lights. I stand opposite a group of well-fed couples on the other side of the street. They are waiting to cross. I look down the way and no cars are coming so I walk towards them. I hear a Southern drawl, "well, I don't know what we're waitin' for...she's goin'...". They all laugh. Cute. I notice all of the women have perfect hair. I smile at them and as we pass I hear one gasp at the lights downtown.

I keep going.

I come upon The 10th Precinct and some young cops are standing outside. My belly jumps. I walked this way on purpose thinking it was smart. I suddenly feel like I'm about to step in a church. Reverance. Respect. Relief. As I pass, I glance sideways and catch the oldest one's eyes. He loudly clasps his hands, looks at me and says, "Yes. It is a beautiful night". I giggle, embarrassed that he read my mind.

You see...I wanted to thank him and I think he knew that.

My brother told me the other day he felt like being back home was like being in a sitcom. He is having trouble tolerating his friends and his clients...as if their concerns can't be real...they have swimming pools and malls and cars and buy in bulk. "Dallas just isn't New York."

I don't think anything is.

When I compare myself to say...anyone else in the world...I feel this advantage...for getting to grow up in the USA. For winning the birth-location lottery. Yes, there are struggles...yes, good health is a privilege, not a right...yes, if you don't have money or fame or big boobs it is hard to feel worthy...but I love this place. Like I love my Dad and Superman.

I have goals in my life and they don't revolve around survival. There are such things as 'come backs' and second, third, fourth chances. If you don't see those chances the second, third or fourth time...SOME one will STILL believe in you.

First impressions last as long as a commercial. This is America, bitch.

I still want to be really skinny if I ever run into my ex.