The Spectrum

Love on the Spectrum is my favorite reality dating show because it gets the closest to reality. While the show is dedicated to those twenty-somethings who are on the autism spectrum, their desires and anxieties are as commonplace as my own. And not a few people could benefit from the guidance of the show’s designated dating expert: Find out what you have in common. Ask open ended questions. Know that no relationship will solve all of your problems.

Most poignant to me was a moment between Michael and Heather, when they came upon a pregnant silence near the end of their date. “How do you feel about me?” Michael asked. “I like you,” Heather replied immediately.

“But, may I ask, in what way?”

“No, no, no!” I mumbled into my blanket. Oh, Michael. One must never ask explicitly how someone else feels about them! And certainly not for additional clarification!

“In a romantic way,” Heather clarified, as they walked hand in hand. And so continues my education.

Fall Updates

The tops of some of the trees in Wisconsin are starting to change and this morning it was so cold. I feel such a deep sense of relief when the schedule fills up and the temperature drops. Sweaters, routine, alarms, and warm showers. All things I missed during the dog days of summer.

I also have a boyfriend now who doesn’t like Halloween, so my long-term seasonal worry is relieved. No costume considerations. Only what takeout to get.

Back to school, back to work, back to people, back to conversation. I feel like I am coming out of a three month retirement to a game of tee-ball. But my little diamond feels like Fenway.

Water Park

Summer days felt like being adrift in an ocean; now school days feel like a water park. So many kids, so many structures, so many activities, so many germs.

Walking past rows of stately trees and sitting in bolted wooden desks several decades old, I feel like I’m in a movie about college, rather than taking my surroundings at their word.

I did have a moment in a small seminar room, looking around at my masked colleagues, taking a mental picture of the peculiar scene to which we have all become accustomed. The time when full-faced, indoor interactions with those outside my emotional comfort pod seems evermore elusive. The time when one can fly, eat, exercise, and gather without second thought is becoming more of a fairytale by the news story.

But it is nice to have confirmation that other people are real, classrooms are living things, and that the seasons continue on as they do. (It’s so nice to not need air conditioning. Have I written about air conditioning before?)

Look How Beautiful

Welcome to my new website. How beautiful, right?

When you see a website (or anything), the more simple it looks, the more time it took. Add on top of that my proclivity for procrastination you can only imagine how long this was simmering on the stove.

It makes sense. How can one possibly translate oneself into website form? What would you be if you were divided up into three categories? What is your “About” page even about?

I settled on the reality that nothing made by me will ever be the same as me, but I can produce something, a third thing, that can be its own thing in itself. This place is simple, logical, black and white. I suspect no amount of time will ever make me into that.

Feeling It

When there's laws and storms and cases and conflict it's easy to feel as though my little essays are like birds chirping in the corner of a giant auditorium of dinosaurs. It's odd to read the news and look out the window and feel anxious about a new school year and see the leaves blowing just as surely as they did yesterday and forever ago.

Every climate, it seems, is changing. From the natural world to the information highway and ultimately the landscape of our inner selves, finding the steady amidst the tumult feels like an evermore elusive yet important goal.

Returning to this blank page and crafting these few words each week is one way I check in with myself and with you, and I hope you have something you can return to, too - a mug, a sidewalk, a plant, a connection - something that stays the same, for all the best reasons.

Also, best wishes, in advance, for the day after Labor Day. All I know is that I'm going to take that shower, put on those pants, and show up as I can. We're all feeling it, but we will all go forward.

The Return

As I was walking home yesterday, I passed two women conferring near a car, masks on their chins and iPhones in hand. "Bob's Discount Furniture is the only place. Alright, we're on table duty." Immediately, another woman marched out of the nearby rental building entrance, proclaiming, "Blender! I'm on blender duty!"

It was a scene of college move-in that is as commonplace as it is exhausting. As a second-year graduate student, I have the distinct privilege of observing the scenes from afar, embracing the relief that comes with knowing I do not need to brave the local Target for kitchen essentials or cheap ottomans. It's a rite of passage for students and parents alike, but at twenty-nine much of the novelty of independent living has faded and been replaced with questions of the more existential variety. "When will I actually live in a place for a long time? When will I start bolting things down?" It's one thing to make a living space; it's quite another to make a life.

I hope the first two women found a suitable and reasonably priced kitchen table at Bob's. The blender, though, I have serious doubts about. Have you seen the Target right now?

All Falls Down

The return to fall is always a thing, but this year it feels particularly daunting. The crisis fatigue is real, and the return of the mask is a perturbing reminder of how impossible it may be for us to actually succeed in this nationwide group project. There's always those few kids who don't want to pull their weight, but rather than getting a B- it feels as though we're all back to pining for just a D or higher. It's not that hard to get the shot, but it is that hard to digest the idea that there is no level of logic, emotional intelligence, or PR strategy that can sway someone who is committed to misunderstanding what it means to live in a shared world.

I am also still annoyed at the pervasive lack of air conditioning in my life, which has exacerbated my exacerbation regarding the above and also [insert other crises here]. Individualistic, yes, but I also feel like it's just not getting enough coverage right now.

OOO

✌🏻

Vacation, All I Ever Wanted

Maine woods, small ponds, warm sun, fresh air...and wedding bells. It's the most wonderful time of the year.

Aquatic Center

There's a giant recreation center I go to now that is far more fancy and far too populated with young, beautiful people for me to ever feel like I belong there. Nevertheless, as access to this temple of higher education excess is one of my few graduate student perks, I try to take advantage of it. It affords me thoughts like, "Maybe I'll go swimming today."

The pool is Olympic length and of Olympic quality, judging by the multiple Olympic rings displayed proudly on its wall above lists of Olympic alumni. As I lackadaisically breast stroke, my curious eyes dancing around the giant florescent arena, I imagine the multiple meetings in which administrators estimated how many top-recruits would be attracted to the university by virtue of this pristine new aquatic center. My attendance could not have been a primary business goal.

It's especially humbling to swim in one of these pools myself while I'm also seeing the best swimmers from around the world on television, their strength and grace almost inconceivable. I agree with the popular quip that the Olympics should incorporate one regular person into each event as a reference point for viewers. If such a person were me, I could guarantee you that the majesty of those athletes would never shine brighter. I would be too busy ogling the cleanliness of the facility, the clarity of the water, the aptitude of all the other swimmers, wondering, "How the hell did I end up here?"

In Other News

Yesterday morning I got a cup of coffee from a gas station and it all went perfectly normally.

Solid Foundation

I live in a decidedly analogue building. It was built in the 1920s, and beyond the faucets and appliances, it has maintained its unique charm in the form of old milk delivery boxes, thick walls, and wavy window panes. There's no air conditioning units allowed (a reason, I was assured, the rent could remain so affordable for such an esteemed neighborhood), and there is a property manager in the form of a mature gentleman who lives on the first floor, dutifully attending to the building's needs and amassing a cheap wealth of knowledge of the various comings and goings of us residents.

The building is a reassuring scene of antiquity amidst the many new rental apartment buildings in every small to mid-size city in the United States, those two bedroom, two bathroom boxes with big windows and central air conditioning. There are many times I fantasize about such boxes, especially staring up at my faithful yet insufficient ceiling fan on hot summer nights, but there is also a sense of particular comfort to my little corner of the world that feels decidedly real, solid, lasting.

When I was back in New York for a day in June I saw a giant new building that looked more suited for Dubai than Midtown. Upon Googling I found its name, "One Vanderbilt," and thought about how at home Anderson Cooper must feel in New York City - a cause I could not imagine requiring any further reinforcement - knowing its most ostentatious, newest building boasted his mother's maiden name. (I await the opening of "One Fitzgerald" at Extell's earliest convenience.) But it wasn't the giant-ness of it all as much as the computer-ness of it all. While some buildings were clearly drawn on paper, these buildings were conceived on a screen. I'm sure it's all more efficient and very exciting (and I would gladly partake in its undoubtedly exquisite central air), but as long as I continue to play the as-cheap-as-possible real estate game, I will take my pride wherever I can get it. While some buildings may have height, mine has depth.

Abbreviated

I.F.L.I.H.H.A.S.E.I.A.L.T.B.I.L.I.U.A.T.N.R.T.B.I.H.P.T.W.S.M.B.I.F.W.H.R.A.N.W.E!

(I feel like I haven't had a short essay in a long time but I looked it up and that's not really true but I'm hosting people this weekend so my brain is full with hostess responsibilities and not with essays!)

The Keep Pile

I went through my computer storage recently because it was preventing me from doing just about anything on my laptop beside browse the internet and watch YouTube videos, which I happily did many a day. ("I would get started on that project, I swear, but my computer can't even save anything right now! Oh well," I assured myself.) I finally found the perfect afternoon, one after a solid lunch, when my non-air conditioned apartment was soothed by the coolness of a rainy day. Even I could not conjure an excuse that would convince myself of further delay.

I started with the skills I learned from several previous calls to Apple (which connects you to a real person sooner than you think as long as you just press "0" enough times). Apple Icon > About This Mac > Storage > Manage. I was presented with my largest and least used files, all of which carried a new weight of significance the way anything does when it's on the precipice of extinction. It was the digital equivalent of eyeing down a bulky antique dresser in the corner of my bedroom, one filled with dusty sweaters I haven't worn for years. "But what if it's colder this winter?" I started to think.

Thankfully, all it takes is getting rid of one big thing and the rest just goes. Soon enough the feeling of relief becomes more rewarding than the anxiety of "but-what-if-I-need-it"-ness. It's like pumping the first pedals on a bike. Once the stakes are lower, then you can really fly.

What I find most fulfilling about clearing out is not the catharsis of relinquishment or even the potentiality of more space. It's the pleasure that comes with knowing that everything I keep, I've chosen, and there are few feelings as sweet and reassuring as that.

Automatic Reply Template

Feel free to use and adjust.

To Whom it May Concern,

I wish to express my sincerest and deepest thanks for your exceptional diligence in composing this undoubtedly detailed, thoughtful, and urgent message. However, due to circumstances that were completely foreseen, I am currently on "vacation," which means that I have likely read your message on my iPhone but do not feel the obligatory guilt to reply until [insert date], at which time I will be "back in the office," which means that I will re-read your message on my desktop and calculate how many additional days I may delay in composing a response that subtly yet gracefully emphasizes the magnitude of other, more important, work I have to do. Know that unless your message simply reads, "Have a great trip! Just Venmo'd you $25 for a round of drinks on me," that I will harbor a small but enduring resentment towards you for adding unnecessary mishigas to the trivial work to which I will return. Note that this resentment will be considered in addition to any resentments that have accumulated throughout our working time together. Nevertheless, rest assured that I will be ruminating on the style and substance of my extremely short reply in my head for the duration of my "vacation," though the message itself will not reach your Inbox until said information is no longer relevant nor useful in resolving your time-sensitive concern. If your passion for acquiring this information continues to burn, please forward this chain to my colleague [insert name] at [insert email], who will also harbor a small but enduring resentment towards you, but without the superiority complex I have been cultivating during my paid time off. If this option rings untenable for you, and you would still like a reply from me personally before I am "back in the office," my Venmo can be reached at [insert Venmo username]. A round of drinks will guarantee you a one-sentence reply (I am not able to guarantee greetings nor sign-offs). And actually send $35, not $25 like I mentioned before. The drinks are expensive here.

Your Loyal Colleague,

[insert name]

Beach Waves

Woooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooshhhoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooshhhoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooshhhooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooshhhoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooshhh

Last Minute

There has to be some part of me (all of me?) that loves leaving just enough time for everything. An entire day with a 5pm deadline is simply not as juicy as only having 44 minutes (23 minutes...6 minutes...30 seconds!) to get it done.

I once heard that the key to productivity is something like having a good idea and not quite enough time to do it. I definitely have the second part down.

Summer Loving

Sweet sunshine, cold drinks, warm breezes, long days. After a tunnel of darkness the light has never been brighter, the breaths never deeper. I hope to live the way my last-year self dreamt of living: free, real, and full, energized not just by self-preservation, but self-fulfillment. I can't wait to see you there.

Slowing Down

Several months ago my computer stopped saving things because I ran out of storage. I also let my WordPress subscription expire because I wanted to redesign this website, so the address defaulted to include ".wordpress.com" and random advertisements started to appear. My podcast was also hosted on this site, which also ran out of storage, which left the last episode in March.

I had a goal to figure this all out by June 1, which happens to be the beginning of Pride Month, but wouldn't it be a better gift to me (a gay) to relax and do this on my own time? My only anxiety is a pervasive loss of interest in my online personality and aesthetic, though I am shocked that the public has seemed to proceed in its cultural life unbothered by my already waning presence.

These technical problems have become the embarrassingly unkept garden beside my rural virtual home. Even I am starting to not stand the dysfunction. But this weekend is Memorial Day, a time to honor our fallen, and it just wouldn't be right to focus on myself this much right now.

Another week.

Summer Reading List

Whatever

I

Want

And

You

Should

To