The world's first vaguely touristy activity that has ever worked out to anyone's (much less my) satisfaction

It almost defies believability - the notion that a place everyone says is SO beautiful really is SO beautiful. But, the Cinque Terre hike is proof to the contrary. I don't even want to say too much, other than that you can link to the website using my title to this post and if you are in Tuscany, don't miss it. Not one step. And, make sure to dive into the crystal clear, cool water at the end of the road....salty heaven.

New York

It always takes about a week for me to shake it off - to get used to not doing a thousand things in a day, to get used to there not being a thousand things to do in a day. It's like going through caffiene withdrawl (see below); my body gets all jangly and ennervated. I feel disconnected and lonely. Lonely for turning the corner at LiLac and crossing Hudson to get a coffee and a muffin. Lonely for the annoyance I feel when there are slow-walking, dare I say strollers, in Chelsea Market (even for the strange ballroom dance classes that block the western exit). Lonely for K and lonely for J and lonely for the thousand and one dinners, films, plays, concerts and readings that a person can fill an entire calendar with.

But.

The one thing I'm not feeling lonely for is....how do I put this....the feeling of feeling lonely. Introspection. Doesn't happen alot when a person's running from place to place, just doesn't. So, I'm crossing this river from one bank to the other, both seem to be dry land. It's all the rushing current in between that seems tricky to navigate. Yesterday, I saw the other side for the first time and it was full of flowers and slowness and time.

It's good, forcing oneself to do things that seem counterintuitive at the time - they often prove to stretch a person somewhere in the vicinity of the right direction.

"Full many a flower..."

Oh yes.

"Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air."

- thomas gray

Walking today, amidst all of the dying cooler air flowers of spring; the blackberry blossom wilting and turning into the hard green burr nettle that will ripen with the sun throughout the summer. Others, too. Glorious. Ruddy pink Azaleas that will last throughout the summer with their sharp, long leaves. Sporadic shoots of Poppy and clumps of Scotchbroom. Yellow Thistle and purple Trumpet Plants, holding strong - low to the ground, shaded by the jagged grasses and blackberry bushes that cling to the steep side of the hill. Listening to songs about flowers and songs with fiddles and songs with slowness to them. Solitary walks in the countryside.

Coffe, Cafe, Espresso and Latte

God, how I love it. And, God how I hate to give it up for a second.

I'm an addict, OK. There I said it. Damn.

Having just arrived in Italy, I'm taking the first step in my temporary back-turning on caffeine. I think it's (supposed to be) bad for altitude adjustment - which seems strange as it grows at altitude. Hey, someone tell Ms. Levin that! This anti-caffeine platform was promulgated by an art critic, to whom I had the misfortune to sit with, at a dinner in Vegas. (double damn Vegas now). By the sorbet she had me swearing to quit by the time my foot hit the lovely coffee-crop dependent country to which I am travelling.

Right now, I am having a coffee.

But, it's only one cup. One cup a day until, well until I see fit to take the next step. Methodone.

xo to you all - I miss you each and every one, already. More on that later.

Arthur Murray

Rhymes with 'flurry'...used to great effect in a Vic Chesnutt song.

Accurate description of life this past week. I've recovered from the 'most fake boobs ever' capital of the country and now have to get used to leaving the 'so many great things about it you don't want to leave ever' capital of the country. Mixed feelings about heading off...at least I get to go and see MacBeth before I go. Not Polanski, sadly. Schrieber.

Speaking of Polanski, I want to go on record with my wholehearted support.

So, there!

T-shirt update

When it was suggested that I wear my new 'Rachel Cory' t-shirt out to get ice cream at my most favorite gelato place I knew there was bound to be trouble. I just knew. I mean, I know my ice cream guy. He's smart and Argentinian and Jewish and I knew....I just knew there'd be trouble enough to threaten my entire summer's worth of coconut cones! Sure enough....

Viva Las Vegas!

Mixed feelings about the whole Vegas or bust scenario - definite highlights including that hike in the Red Rocks with the great K and our dawn drive across the desert. Damn fine time with the two lovliest families around these parts - Mulls and Rosenfelds neck in neck for the title of 'Family We'd Be Most Happy to be Stuck in A Car with for Many Hours'. Robyn and her lion-cub-having new boyfriend might help to edge the Mulls out, though.....

Vegas itself, however. Well, that's another story. Yikes. Tough crowd and smoke and sad people at slot machines. Not even the least bit Romantic these days of the Bush administrations war against the middle class.