massimo was a beautiful man. he was not perfect. but beauty lies in the accumulation of imperfections into a coherent whole. he was short, merely centimeters taller than me. but his eyes were dark, warm, and thoughtful, and his always active hands were so expressive he barely needed to talk. though he was italian, so he did. a lot. i was infatuated with his hands, with the movements and his habits. he had this peculiar way of shaking his hands to express astonishment (an emotion he apparently felt often, as if he were a child and the world still constantly presented him with wonders never before seen). he would shake his wrist back and forth so rapidly that his fingers would snap together. i've never seen anyone else able to do this. he didn't like his glasses so whenever we would sit at a bar he would take them off. i liked to put them on, pretend like i could see the world through his eyes.

it's hard to imagine something more romantic than walking home through paris streets stopping to kiss someone every few feet. it took three times as long to get to my house as it should have. well, maybe not romance, but something of lust and pure desire and a gentle affection. i liked his intelligence and the way he spoke to me. i can't remember now how he kissed, but i remember he tasted of cigarettes and beer or coffee, something acidic and bitter. i feel wierd, remembering so little of my relationship with him. but it wasn't a relationship, we didn't get to know each other, really. what did we laugh about? i have no clue. god, i'm even beginning to forget who i was then. has it been so long? have i changed so much? would he know me now? would i know me then? suddenly i'm overwhelmed.

a few notes about today:

shitty fucking day. jetblue, i am still loyal, but it might be nice to hear some accounting for the mess that was this whole damn week. it's not as if the airline industry has never heard the word "weather" before. jeez. i hope you don't close down.

i feel really guilty for not paying full price for that cab ride. i don't ever delibrately use tears to manipulate people. i was gonna say at least not since i was a kid, but really, i don't think i've ever intentionally cried to get what i wanted. whined, sure, but not all out cried. cried like it was really fucking hard to stop, like it was in that cab. it's like, a person can only take so many disappointments in one day. and today they just kept coming and coming. well, maybe not paying for that cab is me getting some of my good karma back.

also, i'm really enjoying my new deli guys. they're amusing. and much less creepy than the sad guy down the street in the deli that doesn't really sell anything but beverages, cigarettes and polish periodicals. samir and mohammad. nice guys. usually this level of intimicy with complete strangers kind of freaks me out, but tonight it put a real shine on the end of my day, so that's okay. i will worry if i ever go in somewhere else if they'll see me and get offended.

that girl on the amtrak was annoying.

i'm glad i didn't ride the train with l. four hours of kind of uncomfortable would just be too much.

i love driving. i wish i loved running as much as i love driving. would be much healthier.

on that note, my belly is getting serious. like seriously round and protruding. must do something abbout that.

okay, gonna go to sleep then probably have a conference call in my pjs in the morning.