I whipped my Macbook out on the subway - on the subway, yo - to write this. So you’d better be thankful, Lindsey. (No, I'm just kidding about that. No, not about the subway part. I really did write this on the subway. About blaming Lindsey for my imminent mugging. No, really though, she's right...it really has been too long.) But for cereal now, what IS this thing called love? It’s like…the most wonderful, intangible thing in the world. I liken it to electricity. Intangible, you know? You can’t actually see it. You can’t really touch it. Well, you can, but ten times out of ten that decision ends in regret. But you can create it and you certainly can destroy it. Life is infinitely better because of it and kinda' sucks without it. Wait…can you destroy it? Can you destroy energy? Nerdily inclined friends, feel free to chime in here. Anywhoo…what is this crazy, clear-colored thing called love?

I think I got it. I think I know what love is. Well, at least I know what it feels like - like a pleasurable current of electricity. I can feel it sometimes - like when he covers my ears. When the subway releases its air valves at the end of the line Matt covers my ears with his hands because the hiss is so loud it hurts. See, he's lived up here for long enough to be wise to the noise, ya dig? I had scarcely been to his subway stop before meeting him, so I was unaware of the hissing phenomenon. And, lucky for me, I have only rarely been assaulted by the terrible clamor because he covers my ears every time we're together down there. And I am rarely not with him anymore. That’s love.

That’s only one tiny example, but that’s all your gonna’ get in the way of anecdotes because the rest is for us. Besides, I am humble and grateful enough (shut it.) for what I’ve got that I don’t need to flaunt it. I mean. Who wants to hear from someone who gets flowers every single day? I mean, rill-y. Gah.

Matt gives me flowers every time I see him (see previous instruction). No, I mean it. With very few exceptions, I get a flower every time I see him. Sometimes he picks them on his way home from the train, or buys them from the florist or the market. Sometimes it’s a single flower, sometimes a bunch. One time - for an entire week - it was bouquets! My cat got flowers. My friends get flowers. Love literally flows over from us and onto people around us and they get covered in the sticky sweet romantic goo (tastes like Sarabeth's Strawberry Peach jam) (that's what she said) and then they sometimes get a flower, too. That’s love. Or some form of assault. Potato potato.

So, anyway, I don't portend to really know what love is, but I am sure all my readers by now can agree that I do know what love ain't. And this is a whoooooole helluva lot better than anything they got out thare.

We were huddled together under an umbrella rushing to get to the subway in a pouring rain. An old man ambled slowly toward us a little ways ahead of us in our direct path. I began to shift to walk around him, but right at that moment the old man did a side step, removing himself from our course, and stopped where he stood. As we approached, I could see that his gaze was fixed on us. He put his hand on his chest. As we passed, he smiled an old man smile and sang in a gravel-y, bass-y voice, “MmmmMmm! Ain’t love grand?” Stunned silent, we grinned at each other and walked by. A moment later Matt turned, and over his shoulder he shouted, “Yes! Yes, it is.”

Labels: love, physics

It's odd...I remember so vividly the tiniest details from our walk home. The pink dry cleaning slip on the sidewalk #39560. The lady putting stuff into the trunk of her red car. Penelope Cruz fluffing her long hair and reaffixing her baseball cap while chatting with Javier Bardem at the corner of Central Park. He smoked a cigarette. The severe slant to the sidewalk along the front wall of the park. The echoing tickticktick of the cicadas somewhere high in the trees. I had no desire to swat away the bugs I suspected were landing on my skin. I hung my head and my shoulders as low as they could hang while still continuing to put one foot in front of the other. And I walked. I let Matt lead me wherever he wanted me to go and just kept putting foot to pavement one at a time, over and over again.

Labels: boo boo kitty

Apologies for my absence of late, dearest reader (if there is even one of you left. Hello!). You will excuse me for our time apart, though - I know - for I have been honeymooning. The last two months have found me wrapped up in the wonderful, googly, gobbledy, cuddly, peapod part of a fabulous new relationship. I am embroiled. Lambasted. En flambe.

It all started with a magnificent Perfect First Date. As per Melina's comment request, I would love to update you on some of the recent ones...and I will. Patience, my pets. They are most certainly worthy of writing about...so much so that I should start an entire new instructional blog about "How To Have the Perfect Date. Every. Time." But then, I shouldn't be the one writing that. My boyfriend (whom you may eventually meet on here someday, my blog friends, because he too is...wait for it...a blogger!!!), should write that one.

EEERRRRRRRR!!!

Oh...I'm sorry? What's that, you say? Boyfriend??? A BOYFRIEND WHO BLOGS???

Yes. 'Tis true.

a...my name is allison and I am in love.

And it is guuuuud. Take note...

All persons who have found themselves at the start of a promising new love affair have uttered The Words: this one is different. Well, folk, prepare yourself for an entirely new and original statement from this here blogger. You ready? Here goes:

This one is different.

TA-DA!!! Pure genius. I should be published. Really. Anywhoo, this one is different. And here's why. Because he's AWESOME. You ever wish you could have an oatmeal raisin cookie right out of the oven right then and there? For free? With natural vanilla ice cream melting slowly on the side? While getting a massage? Also for free? That's what he's like. He's surprising and delicious and perfect and just exactly what I wished for. And totally, absolutely, 100% free.

I am going to eventually write about some of our dates. It's time this here page had some pep in 'er step, dontcha' think? I mean...ho hum boo boo kitty little Miss Connected to the Universe over here lately has had nothing but deep thoughts. Mind you, I am not poopooing the connectedness thing. That there brought me the most wonderful relationship I've ever had - and I can say that with all honesty after ten whole long weeks! (Okay. Look...my last relationship lasted 5 weeks and went out with a spectacularly boring shebang in the line at Taco Bell. I didn't even get any food, either. So www.zipit.com, m'kay?)

In the meantime, I want to introduce you to the New allison, girlfriend to the cutest curly-headed white boy in all of New York City. And I want to say hello to him, as well, if you don't mind. Ahem. Hi, Mr. C. Long time reader, first time mention. Welcome to my blog.

And gobble gobble, people! Cheese and schmaltz! Wine and roses! Love and kittens!

Labels: bloggers, gratitude, lurve