Saturday, December 31, 2005

2005 in Review


My company moves to a new building. My office with a door is replaced with an open cubicle. My co-workers and I collectively mourn our loss of privacy. However we rejoice in the perfect little gym across the courtyard that includes towel service and individual showers.

Due to icy weather conditions, my director can't make it to the casting of my play. I do it myself. I sit through two days of auditions and call-backs to select the cast.

I endure pre-LASIK evaluations and figure out my medical bills.

Mid-January, I call the cops on the landlord's son -- I don't know it is his son at the time. Sounds like people are arguing, physically fighting, and abusing a dog.

See k.d. lang in concert.

Jer and I finally hike to Inspiration Point.

I am interviewed -- along with the other ten-minute playwrights in our set -- by the local paper and a photographer takes our picture.


LASIK. I sleep in goggles for a week. Listen to Lenny Bruce and eat Lean Cuisine pizzas. Use many types of eye drops, have my tear ducts plugged with wax, and have a tiny scare where my right eye doesn't heal fast enough.

Attend lots of rehearsals in dirty classrooms at the university, run-throughs, dress rehearsals, a tech rehearsal, opening night downtown, and the entire run of my play. Friends fly in from out of town, drive down the coast, lots of excitement and surprise.

Arthur Miller dies.

My interview appears in the local paper. It is mostly positive.

I see Lily Tomlin perform.

Our group of playwrights is panned in both local papers. My play isn't panned as bad as the others, but my name is spelled wrong.

I start playing World of Warcraft.


Chiana is spayed and injected with a HomeAgain ID chip.

I play lots and lots of Warcraft.

Playwriting workshop starts again.

Start buying stuff for our upcoming Yosemite trip. Read Bill Buford's "Among the Thugs." See a couple of plays.

I buy a Nikon D70, my dream camera. Sell my F100 on ebay. Buy a hard drive enclosure so I can store photographs on the road.

Infect my computer with spyware from


Decorate a fan with heavy metal clippings and stickers for a co-worker's last day. Drink my first Bloody Mary.

Read "Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas." Write a play. Watch "Sin City." Discover Regina Spektor.

Jer and I visit the Rancho Guadalupe Dunes County Park and Nojoqui Falls so I can practice my picture taking.

Jer and I celebrate our five-year anniversary.

More Warcraft.


Ultrasound on my throat. Some minor medical drama.

Jury duty. AKA big waste of time.

Buy a Coach purse on ebay. Figure out how to make an eyecup for the D70.

Jer and I leave for Yosemite.


Yosemite... Rent bikes and ride around the valley, eat a fancy dinner at the Yosemite Mountain Lodge, hike to the top of Sentinel Dome in the snow, stay at Curry Village in a tent cabin, see a bear.

Visit the Ventura County Greek Festival. Eat too much.

On June 16, hear the first rumor that I may lose my job, along with everyone else at our site.

Most of the month is spent wondering and worrying about work and making budget plans in the event I'm actually laid off. I maintain the hope that I'll be offered relocation, and there is lots of whispering and grasping at the latest gossip. It is a poor way to live.

I find a new lipstick color and take a break from Warcraft after a fight with the guild ruins my Saturday.


My team at work all receive iPods for finishing an earlier release.

I lose my job. My dream job. I am not offered relocation, but I do receive three weeks of pay as severance. Jer and I discuss our options, and begin to draw up plans to move.

I reduce cable and cut back in a bunch of places to save money.

Visit my family, my sister is there too. Badly sunburned on my arm while driving. Five months later, you can still see the tan lines.

Jer goes to interviews at the university. Our move plans are put on semi-hold as we wait for the outcome. Except not really, because I start to look at apartments on the web in the Seattle area.

Renew my driver's license, eat dinner with the neighbors.

Start selling my CDs on ebay to raise money.

I have my one-year anniversary at work. My co-workers take me to get a Bento Box at the Japanese restaurant next door. On the same day, a job placement service takes over our office to teach us resume writing skills.

I sell my camera flash on ebay.

Attend a party with my co-workers at someone's home in the hills. It is a beautiful evening and sunset and margarita machine... My high heels sink into the dirt between flagstones and I eat fly-trodden sushi, making small talk. Mosquitoes devour the tops of my feet, biting through my nylons. I am itchy for weeks after.

After creating a timeline complete with milestones, Seattle begins to feel like a real possibility. Jer and I submit resumes to places of business in Seattle, but no luck.


I start to do the legwork, in case we move to Seattle. At first it's more that we're going through the motions without committing, but that changes soon enough. I reserve a moving van, find out who to talk to about obtaining permits to park the van on our street, buy plane tickets for our Hawaii trip, reserve boarding for the cats while we're in Hawaii (the cat boarding place is in Seattle), order moving boxes, and go to a Greek festival.

I continue to sell DVDs and CDs to make money for either the move or imminent unemployment, and polish my resume.

Miss my high school reunion to attend a wedding. In truth, I'm not at all sad to miss the reunion.

Go to fiesta with co-workers and drink too much. Hungover and stupid.

Notify the landlord when we're moving out. Book tickets to fly up to Seattle to find an apartment. Start selling bigger items like book shelves, Jer's desk, cabinets, the big screen tv, and washer/dryer.

I turn 28. I get the permit to park the moving van, there's a big product release, and I make some appointments to see rental units while we're in Seattle for 3 days.

We fly to Seattle, we see about five places, we spend a lot of time being anxious and a lot of time enjoying the in-car navigation system. The last place we see on the last day as a last resort, we decide to rent. The place is perfect and has an incredible view. We sign the papers and pay our deposit and fly back. All in 3 days.

After the product release goes out, there's not much to do at work. I spend most of my time preparing for the move.

We pack and clean. Constantly. There is much moving related stress and anxiety.

Jer's family comes into town to see the dog show. Both of our parents' computers blue screen at the same time in different cities.

Have my tires rotated and aligned and open a bank account for Seattle.


Dear God it is a lot of work to move, that is the theme for September.

More of our big items disappear. We buy equipment for the move, like a dolly, tarps, furniture blankets... Drop off donations, pack up my cubicle at work, set up new renters/auto insurance policy for the new state.

I work my last day. I turn in my laptop and keys.

Attend a going away party for a co-worker (and I guess, technically, myself). Jer can't make it because he is packing but our friends don't believe me and are nasty about his absence. That still makes me angry, because there were something like 8 of them to help 1 guy move his ten boxes into a truck and only 1 of them volunteered to help Jer and I move our gazillion boxes and furniture into the truck. Not that I wanted their help, but I sure as hell didn't want their attitude either.

We give away our bikes and my roller blades. I post "No Parking" signs on the street to reserve a space for the moving van -- a condition of my permit.

We pack the moving van. It is painful and difficult, but we get it done. The permit saves us a ticket from the meter maid on street sweeping day.

The moving van leaves. We have a final walk-through with our landlord, spend three hours on Saturday morning loading our cars with computers and cats, and drive to Redding. Stay overnight and leave the next day for Seattle. Cats never stop crying. My rear turn signal goes out.

We get the keys to our place and sleep on the floor for a week. Rent a U-Haul, drive to ABF, unload, drive back, unload again, exhausted and tired, return the truck and collapse.

The next week, drop the cats off at the boarding place, and leave for Hawaii.

Spend the last week of September, first week of October, in Kauai and Maui.


Hawaii highlights: kayaking down a brackish river, hiking to a waterfall. Red dirt. Snorkeling in the ocean. Shooting sunrises and sunsets, camera lens fogging in the humidity. Rainbows. Polihale, Waimea Canyon, flat tire on the Road to Hana, $10 coconut water at a roadside stand, swimming at Sprecklesville Beach, the Spouting Horn, Haleakala Caldera, koi, sea turtles, Kilauea Point...

Return to Seattle, pick up cats from boarding house, finish unpacking, apply for jobs. Walk along the water, watch television, edit Hawaii photos, and write out my stories. Jer works. I go on one interview, and do a bad phone interview.

Lots of trips to Fry's, Ikea, Best Buy, Target, and Costco. We're in awe of having these stores at our fingertips. I mourn the loss of a local Kohl's.

We meet a friend and his girlfriend for drinks and Thai food. It's the first time it drizzles while we're here... besides when we were unloading the U-Haul truck.


Watch a lot of television. Try to write. Start to slip into a funk.

I send away for free movie passes to see "The Squid and the Whale." I pick Jer up after work and we find the theater in the rain.

I make a calendar with the Hawaii photos. I sell three of them, two to my friend Lily and one to myself. I make $5.90.

I am hired at a company mid-month. In the middle of the interview, there is a fire drill. I take off my high heels so I can run down four flights of stairs.

Jer is unhappy at his new job, but sticks it out. We meet for lunch downtown. I commute by bus.

We buy a new television.

I slowly explore downtown. Cook fried chicken for Thanksgiving.


December 1, it snows. I'd never seen snow fall from the sky before. Christmas shopping on the internet. Lily visits to celebrate her birthday and we eat too much: Salty's, Cheesecake Factory, Claim Jumper and then a trip to see the new Harry Potter.

Jer works a lot of overtime. His company lays off one-third of their employees.

We try the tavern down the street and start eating at the "Shack" by the pier. Excellent burgers and fries.

Office holiday party. I win the grand prize and give it back because I cheated. Attend the after-party where I nearly sing karaoke.

I participate in the giving tree at work and buy a kid some shoes.

Spend Christmas Eve at a co-worker's dinner party.

End of December, massive internet problems leaving us offline too often. A friend from SB visits to celebrate the New Year. I decide on a personal theme for next year. My goal for 2006 is to publish a short story.

From December 26:

I'm listening to the "Chess" soundtrack. I'd almost forgotten how much I like it. I used to borrow soundtracks on cassette tape from the library, and listen to them over and over. This is one of those I never owned, but with a little nudging I can sing every lyric. Badly. It's actually best for everyone if I stick with lip-synching into a hair brush. In the library stacks I also discovered Les Miserables, Miss Saigon, and Patti LuPone's/Mandy Patinkin's Evita. These were the gateway drugs to Aspects of Love, Sunset Boulevard, and the Stephen Sondheim catalogue. Mmm, Assassins.

The music in "Chess" is a little dated, but that doesn't stop me from enjoying the hell out of it. I mean, come on, it's a musical... about chess. With a Cold War sub-plot!

I'm not sure why, but my fellow high school students never shared this exuberant passion for musicals.


"You and I
We've seen it all
Chasing our hearts' desire
But we go on pretending
Stories like ours
Have happy endings."
- Chess - You and I

Thursday, December 29, 2005

Secure the Perimeter

There was a manhunt last night, outside our living room window. Dozens of police cars, lights flashing, pulled into all kinds of crazy angles on the street, a team of four officers trotting behind a police dog swinging wide beams of light at the bushes, a Coast Guard boat in the bay scanning the dark and placid water... Jer and I were watching "Mythbusters" when the commotion started and we saw the first of many flashing lights. And finally, the helicopter with its infrared capability, circling above our complex.

Jer and I sat by the balcony, trying to figure out what was happening. We overheard an officer ask, "Have you seen anybody run through here? Long hair, tattoos, handcuffs?"

The news at 10 didn't have much more information. An unsteady, blurry shot of the scene and a voiceover that police were searching for a man who'd stolen a police car while wearing handcuffs. The search was still going strong when I went to bed at 10:30. I guess it wasn't much later that they caught the guy.

Here's the official story: Man, arrested for stealing a car, steals police car

Still no internet at home, but now we've ruled out the cable modem. We have a second appointment to have our connection looked at on Saturday. And I bought a steam cleaner! And I need to buy thank you cards! We are falling so behind without our daily entries! Will we ever truly catch up again?

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

Internet has been down for about a week now. I have a few entries stored on my home computer that I'll post as soon as I can.

I hope everyone had an excellent holiday weekend. Merry New Year.

Also, my home phone is VoIP, so if you've tried calling, I'm probably not getting your messages in a timely manner. This lack of internet access has brought home productivity to its knees.

Thursday, December 22, 2005

Quick note to say that internet's been down at home. We've got a service appointment tomorrow, but if they can't figure it out I may be without internet access for the next few days.

Merry Christmas, if you celebrate. Otherwise enjoy your holiday weekend.

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

I got home last night to a FedEx slip. Ugh, I thought, now we’ve got to go stand in line. And find a new place in the dark and the rain. And the wet.

I called Jer, since it was his package, to make sure he wasn’t working late. He wasn’t. We deduced that we had a narrow window, 45 minutes, from the time we were allowed to visit the FedEx factory to the time it closed. So when Jer got home (I was watching the last twenty minutes of Gilmore Girls), he printed off directions from Google Maps and then we embarked upon our adventure. Neither of us had any idea what type of present could possibly require the FedEx touch, but we were willing to investigate.

At the FedEx factory, we were greeted by a super uber mega line. A line that had devolved into a blob shape, not really a line any longer because a line implies order. A kind soul directed us to check-in at the desk and then step back to wait for Imminent Package Retrieval. Meanwhile the place was packed, elbow to elbow, and more people pushed through the automatic sliding door all the time. Oh, it was anarchy.

Twenty-five minutes later we’d befriended a guy who was picking up an iPod. We mocked stuff together.

And then, the magical moment! Jer’s name was called and we pushed our way to the front, through stacks of bodies. The box was no help. Jer carried it to the car, set it in the trunk, and sliced an end open. Lo and behold, there sat bundled a DVD player, in all its glory.

And so we watched “Whale Rider.” And stayed up many hours past my bedtime so that I could see it a second time.

I am drinking coffee in a fancy travel mug because of my wickedness. But it is delicious wickedness.

Jer has worked late nearly every night for 2 weeks, and has been on call during the weekends. But I think it’ll slow down since his company just laid off one-third of their employees. Happy holidays. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out. He’s a contract worker so we didn’t expect he’d be there forever. If the axe does fall or the company locks its doors without letting anyone know, we’re not too worried. We have money saved and he’d enjoy the break. Plus it’ll be a good experience for him to see how a company dies.

Good times.

Friday, December 16, 2005

This has been an ... interesting ... week.

I drafted two different proposals in committee. It involved working with a group and coming to a consensus. One of the groups is still debating my brilliance, while the other has accepted the terms whole-heartedly. Mostly I’m just tired now. I’ve said all I can say on these subjects, and I need to recharge. TGIF.

I’m feeling smug and self-satisfied because I bought a 12-year old boy a new pair of Adidas. It’s part of the giving tree at work. Only instead of real wrapping paper, I accidentally bought cellophane. So in order to conceal the shoe box, I lined the red cellophane with white printer paper and then secured it nicely with tape and ribbons. This is how you make lemonade.

I also won the big gambling prize after our holiday party. A trip to Nevada. But then I gave it back because I cheated. Okay, I didn’t cheat, but I didn’t deserve it either. Somehow I managed to win the most chips and by win I mean, other people gave me their chips because they took pity on me, and apparently that was enough to win. I exchanged the grand prize for a card shuffler. Now I can shuffle all the cards, as long as there are only two decks, and you are patient.

Tuesday, December 13, 2005

We Are So Helpful

Today was exhausting. People and their drama are exhausting. I will now surround myself in a no-drama-zone bubble that is unbreachable. Leave me to my mocha and cookie crumbs. I am not dealing with it anymore.

In other news... nope, still tired. Why won’t that coffee kick in?

I’m reading “Minority Report” by Philip K. Dick. I hardly notice the bus ride these days. This makes me a perfect target for pick-pockets and unsavory characters. Don’t be like me: always be aware of your surroundings. I know there’s a sports bar downstairs. Maybe I should just go visit the sports bar. That would be one positive step in making me notice my surroundings.

It was Jer’s birthday yesterday. We went to Red Robin and the wire in my bra may or may not have escaped and stabbed me repeatedly in the armpit. TMI? Hahahaha. If you could promise me no more drama, I could promise you a modicum of tact. But you can’t, can you? No. You don’t that power and I don’t have the restraint.

Sunday, December 11, 2005

I'll Drink to That

The good thing about an open bar at the office holiday party is that you can drink as much as you like. The bad thing about an open bar is the next morning, when you remember everything you said and did under the influence, as you decide whether or not it's appropriate to die of shame.

And was that me in the overcrowded bar at the after party, screaming Bon Jovi lyrics while I threw myself around the dance floor? Yes, yes it was. And was that me suggesting, nay insisting, to the HR manager that we force everybody to play name bingo for prizes?

Oh dear God, it was.

Saturday, December 10, 2005

The Social Event of December

The plan for today is to get a haircut and to that end, I've made an appointment at a local hair salon and day spa. Normally the multi-purposeness of this establishment would inspire dread, but now the nervousness is balanced by a desperate desire to shear the excess mane of hair I've accrued. Seriously, it is everywhere. And the pricy blonde highlights need to be stripped out of my mane because they have been strangled by the roots.

Meanwhile, my cats are killing lady bugs. We've got ourselves an infestation.

Wearing makeup properly is a lot of work, but I'm willing to put forth the effort on special occasions. Tonight is the office holiday party. It's at a swanky place. So I guess I'll wear foundation.

On the way to the bus stop I made a side-trip to Rite-Aid and bought nylons, Band-Aids, and Scholl's Inserts for Her (open toe and sandal style.) Are your illusions shattered to bits? I do not have good luck with high heels.

I believe that my black dress will be accented by a necklace I haven't bought yet, but I'll know it when I see it. I'm thinking red beads, two semi-circular and staggered layers. And that's the extent of my planning. Jer is supposed to work today, so hopefully that won't interfere with his attendance. I'd hate to muddle through one of these things on the conversation strength of my anticipatory foot needs (as I've done here).

If I falter in the girlie factor, I'll just pretend I'm dressing up for Halloween. Wish me luck.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

All Wrapped Up and Nowhere to Go

Please don't look at me. I know my eyelids are unnaturally thick today, but there's a perfectly good explanation. You see they swelled in the night, so that my normally beady eyes are now hidden in folds of lid flesh. And the reason for the flesh puff is that we finished watching all of Farscape last night. It's over. Go home, people. There was death and there was birth and how could you not think it's one of the best shows on television? The writing, the acting, the frenetic plot pace and the characters...

It's true. I sobbed into my enchiladas.

And now it's over.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005

An Hilarious Mash Up of Nonsensical and Highly Unreliable Affectation

For lunch I ate a tasty falafel plate. One of the tastiest ever. I ruined it by eating too much and now my belly is feeling hurt and betrayed. It wants do-overs, but it’d settle for left-overs.

It cracks me right up that I can walk down the street and pick a restaurant. And that I can sit outside of the restaurant at a little plastic table in the cold, next to a Tea & Crumpets shop, across from an x-rated adult store. (Bring on the Google hits!) It’s a funny world when you can satisfy your tea fetish and your foot fetish on the same corner.

In not so wonderful news, my medical benefits suck. Every month I buy two prescriptions and for many moons it’s been $15 for both. With my new benefits, it’s $55 for both. One of the two prescriptions is generic, and with insurance I now get a three dollar discount. What’s that about? It’s not like I enjoy taking pills everyday. It’s not like I can stop taking the stupid generic thyroid medication. Well, I guess I *could* stop but then my pulse rate would double and apparently that’s not a good thing. I can’t wait to find out how much it’ll cost to actually see an endocrinologist. To be on the safe side, I better start saving now. Maybe I’ll open a CD just for co-payments.

Thanks to the convenience of Amazon wishlists and itchy trigger fingers, I’m nearly done with my holiday shopping. There’s really only one problem spot left. My Marine brother-in-law is in Iraq and I’ve still got to gather together and send him a care package. He likes chili. I’ve done everything I can think of to avoid the post office, but it looks like I’m stuck. And really, I know, it’s the least I can do. I wonder if Amazon will ship him chili if I put it on a wishlist. A girl can dream.

Speaking of dreams, all I want to do is sit down and finish “Dream Park.” The book is in my purse, within reach, tormenting me. I think this is why I don’t read as much as I used to. Whenever I’m involved in a story, everything else is a shadow, an echo of that other reality. And I want to get back to it in the worst way. Reality is not an adequate substitute.

Ever stare at your hands and wonder how they got so big? I remember as a child, sitting half-naked in the living room, examining my arms. I remember wondering how it would feel when they finally stretched out and grew long. Would it hurt? Back then I could entertain myself for hours by flexing my fingers and wiggling them around, watching the tendon flicker in my wrist, trying to pinpoint the trigger that made them move. How did I tell my hands to do that? How did they know? If they just move like magic, could it ever stop working? If it’s just thought that makes them move, how would you fix them if they’re broken?

Hair cut scheduled for Saturday. If I can’t wear priceless butterfly gowns, I can at least slay my static strands of fly-away hair and irascible split ends.

Monday, December 05, 2005

I'd Like to Thank...

There’s an office holiday party this weekend. I’ve got a short black dress I plan to wear, but everyday on the bus I pass the most wonderful dress shop with the most stunning window displays. I don’t generally gape at clothing, but these are so beautiful and artful, it makes me want to engage in credit card frenzy. Last week there was a dress where the skirt was designed to resemble a monarch butterfly. This week the dresses are a deep dark red and they hang, they drape, perfectly on the mannequins. It’s maybe the first time I’ve seen and understood how clothing is meant to soften and flatter the figure, even when that figure is a rigid piece of plastic without a head.

In the back of my mind I think, someday. Someday I’ll wear a dress like that. There will be an occasion that’s worthy enough, that’s special enough, that I can justify the expense of such a “frivolous” purchase. The logical conclusion then is to start gunning for some prestigious award with a large cash prize, and once I’m nominated and invited to the awards show, I can buy whatever frelling dress I want. Clearly that’s my only option.

Well then, I better get off my ass and do something award-worthy. Or I’ll never be a pretty, pretty princess.

Sunday, December 04, 2005

If Books are the Food of the Soul, then my Brain is Fat

Can't ... move ... too ... full ...

Lily came to visit for her birthday and we ate, and we ate, and then for a change, we ate some more. We also saw Harry Potter 4: The Revenge, and watched a lot of television. Whenever there was a lull, we ate. You get the picture.

I finished the first round of gift shopping today via the internets, and threw in a few DVDs for me while I was at it. I bought the first two seasons of Farscape -- already have seasons 3 and 4 -- and the Northern Exposure Parka Pack from Costco. My Amazon wishlist is here, if you'd like to see what other materialistic indulgences float my boat.

It's been a fun but tiring couple of days. On the way back from dropping Lily at the airport, we stopped at a used bookstore and I bought a few more Harlan Ellison books, and some older Poppy Z. Brite. I was just introduced to an author, Thomas Ligotti, who I like very much and I'm currently reading "Dream Park," by Larry Niven. Now you're all caught up. A pop quiz is forthcoming.

Friday, December 02, 2005

Alone in my Head

My work is kind of lonely. If I wanted, I could probably go the whole day without speaking a complete sentence to another human being. Muttering at my monitor doesn’t count. I spend so much time figuring out the best way to write something and puzzling together the right selection of words that I’m afraid I’m forgetting how to speak.

When someone asks me a question, my eyes lose focus. I feel the wheels turn and I stammer out a response. My fingers twitch in the air, because you know, they want input too. There’s a disconnect between my fingers and my mouth and it doesn’t help that Fingers don’t want Mouth speaking for them and that’s all Mouth does.

No matter how strong your brain muscle, there’s only so much deep concentration a person should have to undertake in one day. My eyes are tired, my poor, surgically enhanced orbs of goo... There’s still too much time left on this casual Friday, and I’m waiting for my second wind. Come on, second wind, see me through the five o’clock joyride. Don’t let me down, Paul Simon.

I dreamed I was almost branded. I stopped it right before the hot metal touched my skin. It would’ve been on my shoulder, about the size of a quarter. And I was letting it happen because I’d been tricked. But I figured it out. Just in time. And then I woke up.

Wherever I go, peoples’ voices sound the same. I think I keep meeting the same set of people over and over. I’m afraid I’ll accidentally call somebody by their old name instead of their new name.

This is why I have trouble articulating myself verbally: I’ve got no point. Maybe I should create a structured outline for all potential conversations. Yessir, then I'd have loads of stuff to say and people would come from miles around to hear me pontificate and we would live in champagne houses made of caviar beams...

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Christy's First Snow

Snow is falling from the sky. Right now, outside the window. Everywhere. I walked in it and man, is it ever cold. I’m going to need a scarf and maybe a knit hat of some kind. My water resistant jacket just doesn’t hold up to this kind of strain.

I should mention that I’ve never before seen snow falling from the sky. I’ve seen man made snow, and snow after it’s landed, but never like this. I’ve seen hail, dime sized chunks of ice hit the pavement and shatter, but this is different. This is graceful. This is like stepping inside a snow globe. This is lots of little points of white, like static on a tv screen, in an organized and frenzied dance and the music is gravity.

I’m many floors above the ground, looking out over the city and I see umbrellas and winter coats and Christmas lights. I see a little boy without his gloves grabbing at the sky. I see the sports bars and the dress shops and the workers in the other office buildings at their desks, staring back at me. It’s wild, this.