I think I'll move on to the next installment of Harry Potter, instead. This is the best time for me to read something like that--when it's no longer fashionable to do so.
Last night, I traveled to Boston to visit my buddy Michael. Michael, as you may recall, worked with me last summer and is now studying at Tufts to be a doctor. He always reminds me of Tennessee William' description of Dr. Sugar in the written script of Suddenly Last Summer, although I don't think he's much interested in performing lobotomies. He's a great guy, and I haven't seen much of him since he started his schoolwork (although understandably so).
We ended up going out to the Phoenix Lounge in Cambridge.
THE REAL STORY--Enter the Phoenix
Michael's friend Shelley accompanied us. She's also a first year student at Tufts, interested in becoming an abortion doctor. Which may give you the idea that she's very left wing and free thinking. I, of course, find this combination to be irresistible, and found her fascinating, although I always seem to start getting squirrelly around the hyper-intelligent after ninety minutes, and worry that I'm going to run out of bon mots to dole out.
Michael, who bears somewhat of a resemblance to Bill Clinton, admitted to me earlier on, before we picked Shelley up, that he has been having "intimate relations" with the woman, although they had entered the "friendship zone" last night after seven hours of fighting, one hour of snuggling, and a farewell zip to put the icing on that whole chapter of their lives.
Although I was somewhat nervous about how the two would interact, things went well. The club was crowded, noisy, and the deejay was terrible...it was terrific. My dancing as consistently horrible the entire evening, and I didn't care!
There's just something so...intimate about clubs like that. Having to lean in to talk to someone to be heard above the noise, so that you're practically kissing their cheekbone. And they return the favor and lean in to talk to you. You can shout out intimacies with abandon, you can rail against the injustices of the world, like King Lear, and no one can hear a word you're saying above the thunder.
About midway through the evening, I received a call from Jon, wondering where I'd been that day. I called back, but he was asleep. Note to self: call him, today. I still want to be friends.
It was fun, but I can't say that I was entirely in a club mood to begin with. Perhaps its just the dull ache I always get right before I have to return to work after a vacation. So many things to get done at work...with my writing...with my finances...with increasing clarity through better exercise and diet. For some reason, my love life has ceased to be much of a priority for me, at least temporarily. What the world may need right now is love sweet love, but from this guy's vantage, all I'm interested in doing is putting all the pieces together, and finding room for a good flick while I'm sipping a Cosmo.
My life. Just add water.