A New Cast of Characters

I've decided to start reading one non-poetry book and one poetry book per week. So far, with starting a new job, I've only really gotten through the one poetry book. It was Walking the Black Cat by Charles Simic. I liked it but didn't love it, although his poems are about eerie and strange characters and wandering the streets and insomnia, which are all pretty interesting.

I guess they're also themes I know a lot about, in some way or another. I'm in a place that's relatively new to me (I've experienced the college side of where I live, not so much the town side) and now that I'm working in a local business and heading downtown everyday, I start to recognize the same strange cast of characters. People missing teeth, people who talk loudly about their sex lives, people who sit stone-faced on benches with only their eyes moving on the other passerbys-- people that I might have known for years had a grown up here; people that might not be so intriguing if I was from the area. Some of them talk to me about past jobs or overdoses or their various ailments while I work, and they're just these adult wanderers heading through a little city, and they're young in their unsettledness and old in their age all at the same time. And they're fascinating.

There is something about the odd cast of characters that come with every town, and I feel like that's what Simic captures in Black Cat. It's like a journey through a strange place, and I'm beginning my journey in a strange place, wandering through the streets to and from work and the grocery store, as one of the new girls in the town's ever-developing story.

Dark Corners

By Charles Simic

So, how'd you find me?

Ordinarily, I act deaf and dumb, but with you

It's different. Darting in and out

Of doorways, prowling after me

Like a black cat.

Just look at the suckers, I kept

Shouting at the world. It was no use.

They just stepped over me holding on to their hats,

Or lifting their skirts a little

On the way to hell.

He must be crazy, sprawled there

On the sidewalk, his fly unzipped.

His eyes closing. Only you came back

To see how I'm doing,

Only you peeked into every dark corner.

I'm a bird fluttering in flight.

Find me a nice, large cage with the door open.

Back me out of here with your kisses.

My shoes and laces.

My pants need your fingers to hold them up.

The Deal With New Beginnings

I started my new job yesterday. I really think I'm going to like working with the people at the job. Everyone was super friendly and they seem organized and all-in-all on top of their shit.

Starting a new job is always a little awkward. I feel like I repeat the same phrases over and over, "right", "that makes sense", "of course", "yeah", and obviously: "Sorry!" or when directed to someone who doesn't work at the business: "Sorry! I'm new!" Plus you're in this place where you're meeting a bunch of people you don't know and learning a whole bunch. But new beginnings are always as exciting and interesting as they are nerve-wrecking and awkward.

And this summer is all about new things, particularly being in a new location during the summer and living a new type of summer. Sometimes, I find myself feeling completely separated from Jersey summers: from my friends there, my family, and my boyfriend. And in those moments, a cool feeling creeps up on me and I just want to be back in Jersey with them, driving around with my friends or my boyfriend or having dinners on the porch with my parents.

But in most of my time, I get excited even when I go outside of my apartment to see the beautiful upstate New York summer that I've never experienced before. I get excited hanging out with my friends here and exploring everything. I could walk to a poetry reading this weekend; there are no walkable poetry readings by me in Jersey. Being able to have excitement and culture and things I love a few blocks away is totally new. Not the awkward and nerve-wrecking kind of new, the AMAZING kind of new.

In Jersey, sometimes I feel like I've met everyone in my town. Which is sounds like a stuck-up kind of thing to think, but it's more just like I've lived in a small town forever, and even though it's home, it's not always satisfying. I guess home can't always be satisfying.

And just because a new place is satisfying doesn't mean it feels like a home. Which I guess is where I am right now. I love living here, but it's not quite a homey-Jersey-summer.

I think the way it goes with new things though, is that you have hope that once you get past the awkwardness and the nervousness, that once the new becomes the old, your life will at least little better than it was before.

Two Dinners and Born to Run

My friend took me to Wegman's today; my roommates and I hadn't been shopping in way too long and I basically bought the entire store. I'm still in my time of High Summer Expectations, and bought all this stuff to make different chicken meals, even though I'm a bit challenged in the kitchen.

When I got home, I made a salad with feta cheese, onions, and apple cider vinegar and then tried to make sesame chicken, only to realize I forgot to buy sesame seeds. But I made it anyway and, fun fact, sesame chicken without sesame seeds is just chicken with honey on it. Delicious, but not the same.

Then I went over to a friend's house and we made another dinner-- Jambalaya with chop meat, cornbread, and then rice pilaf mixed with diced tomatoes and chicken. It was pretty good, considering it was a makeshift meal of all the shit left in my friend's apartment since his lease ends tomorrow.

After dinner we sat around and listened to Bruce Springsteen's Born to Run and for a second I felt a pang of homesickness. If anyone read my post about summer albums, that was my number one. The summer album to end all summer albums. I always thought that album was great because it was an album that people from my parents' generation and my generation, and the generations in between, could drive around and listen to when it was hot outside. It's a trans-generational album.

And I guess it's a trans-state album too. Part of me will always associate Bruce with Jersey and my parents and family and friends there, it was great to have the album make that jump: to have it go from being a Jersey album to an upstate NY album. To the summer album no matter where I am.

Even though I missed home a little tonight, it was nice to be living a life of making dinners with friends in our apartments and not in our parents' kitchens (although I acknowledge that all of our parents help us pay rent on some level at least, if not paying for it flat out... so financially our kitchens in our apartments belong more to our parents than they do to us). There are things about Jersey that I miss, but things about upstate NY that I can't have there. It's a give and take.

At one point tonight we looked up what a "Tenth Avenue Freeze Out" means. Turns out Bruce doesn't even know. But if I had to take a guess, I think a Tenth Avenue Freeze Out takes place during the summertime.

Let the Different Summer begin...

Yesterday was my last final, thank God. And I'm officially done. This summer I'll be living in upstate NY, interning for the Committee on US-Latin American Relations (where I interned this spring) and then working at a coffee place (finally got a job!). I'm pretty excited, albeit a little homesick.

This is the first summer that I haven't spent in New Jersey. Summer number 20, and finally I'm spending the season somewhere else. I miss Jersey, and I think it's a missable place (even though people continually insult it). But sometimes, especially when you're in college, you need to do things a little differently than you used to. So here I am--not in Jersey.

Today I walked around town a little bit and started doing the thing I do at the beginning of every summer, when I have really high expectations for myself. "I'm going to write poetry everyday... in fact, I'll write a chapbook!" I told myself as I walked to the library. Then: "I'll read one book of poetry every week and one non-poetry book. And I'll watch movies. Particularly The Graduate... I need to see that again. And I'm gonna listen to Paul Simon's 'Graceland' on repeat. And maybe I can convince someone to start driving me in the direction of Graceland while the album's playing since I don't have enough money to actually go to Graceland... That way I'll get to pretend for 45 minutes.

And exercise. I'll do that more. Or, well, let's be honest here, I'll start exercising.

And clean my room, and the rest of my apartment. All the time. I'll be neat for once. And I'll start eating organic and learn how to ride a bike again."

These are the things I told myself all throughout today and the chances of any of them happening are kind of slim. But it's nice to think about them anyway. That's the way the beginning of summer is--expectations are always high and that's the way it should be. No one should ever start a summer without saying: "This is going to be the best summer of my life."

Summer Music

It's a beautiful day today; 85 degrees where I am. Hopefully summer's coming soon. I can't want to spend time outside once the semester is over and I can relax a bit.

There are certain albums that just remind me of summer. Of lying out on the porch or driving around or vacations. I figured in celebration of the nice weather I'd post my favorites:

10. The Problemaddicts-Dark Side of Oz: Really interesting rap album; it samples Dark Side of the Moon and concepts from The Wizard of Oz. I really have no idea why I associate this album with summer, but somehow I do so it's on the list.

9. Janis Joplin-Pearl: I always feel like Joni is for winter and Janis is for summer.

8. The Max Levine Ensemble-OK Smartypants: A good driving summer album, since it's relatively fast tempo pop-punk.

7. Gaslight Anthem-Sink or Swim: I've heard people make fun of this band before, but I really like them and this album is another one of those driving-around-for-ages albums. They borrow from Bruce Springteen and from Meatloaf (who are also on my list), and I think that's why people make fun of them. But, I dunno, it works for me.

6. Meatloaf-Bat out of Hell: This album and Born to Run are really similar in my mind, but a lot of people don't really see the connection. But this is one of those other albums about driving and young love and hot summer nights. And it's awesome

5. River City Rebels-Hate to Be Loved: I ususally skip the slower tracks when I listen to this album by this punk rock band during the summer. But the faster ones ("Glitter and Gold", "Cloudy Times", and "Her New Man" in particular) have such a great summer feel to them. They remind me of working in the dry cleaners that I worked at in high school. During the summer months, I played this album on repeat and wished I was outside while I took care of other people's dirty laundry.

4. Ray Charles-Ray Charles: This album is perfect for summer nights on a porch. Nothing like some Jazz and the night air to relax you. The only bummer is that this album doesn't have "(Night Time) is the Right Time" so I'd recommend putting that song on after this album is over.

3. Neutral Milk Hotel-In the Aeroplane Over the Sea: I've heard this described as the best concept album of our generation. And it is pretty damn good. Try this: Put this album on if it's sunny and you're driving somewhere rural. I swear it'll make your day.

2. Paul Simon-Graceland: This album. Oh god. Simon's album has African influences and it's absolutely amazing. It makes me want to go on a road trip to Graceland. It's an album about love and redemption and traveling. It should be the soundtrack of any vacation, even if you're not "going to Graceland, Graceland, Memphis Tennessee... "

1. Bruce Springsteen-Born to Run: I don't even feel like this needs an explanation. If there was ever a summer album, it's gotta be Born to Run. What's more summery than

songs about driving and escaping and young love and wasting your "summer praying in vain for a savior to rise from these streets"?