At the end of 2006 I resolved to only order hamburgers when I was out to dinner, if available on the menu. At the time it felt incredibly sensible. I had reached the point of being so unsure about who I was that the act of choosing from a menu was a defining moment.
Last Friday night I went to The Duke with The Peachettes for dinner. I ordered the hamburger and it was delicious but it dawned on me that it wasn't necessary and now I find myself having to make the stupid proclamation that I don't need to order hamburgers anymore. I'm ok to eat the fish or the pasta or the prawns or whatever other food I fancy. I think its getting on to salad time.
I'm wary. I 'm skittish. I'm meeting Zissou for a drink on Friday night. It is a small thing to meet a person for a drink. So unimaginably mundane for the masses but in my head it is turning into a turning point. Who I am meeting or why is less relevant than the fact that I am meeting someone for a drink. My second stupid proclamation for the night is that I have never met someone for a drink before. Friends, of course, people I know certainly, the experiment man didn't make it past one coffee but he was just an experiment man.
Inside there are a team of tiny workers hammering together the prefabricated pieces of my built in add on adult pack. I have no idea how the drink will go but I am not concerned about that. I am more worried about being flattened by the debris in my rising tide. I am clicking into place with a strong freeing of the dust and it is not because of someone else. It is me. I am ordering the fish, I am telling people no, no I don't like that. I am walking around content with the rhythm of my step and the limit in my stride while my flaws turn into facets.
