January has lasted four months. What a terrible month. I mean, good stuff happened but the stress and dismay is constant. It’s been really cold – colder than it’s been in years – and we had two big storms in January and one big storm this past weekend. So here’s some of what happened in January.
Geese in an icy field near me. It took me a while to even see them. I pulled over because I liked the bleakness of the scene, and then squinted at the black-ish cluster way out there, and suddenly saw the 100s of geese. What are you all even doing out there!
I met Jafar Panahi at the NYFCC dinner, where we gave him the Best Director award for It Was Just an Accident. I can’t even believe it. I talked to him, through his interpreter, about 20 seconds after the first picture I took below. I am not one to go up to celebrities and try to talk, even at events like this, and I definitely don’t ask for a photo. I’ve never done that. And going into this awards dinner, I said to myself, “I have to make an exception for Jafar Panahi!” But in the moment, I didn’t feel like it. It was enough to have had a moment to speak to him, to thank him, etc. He was lovely and friendly, even though, of course, his home country is in total SOS-mode, which he spoke about in his speech. (Not to mention the fact that the Iranian regime put out a call for his arrest – AGAIN. He is going to go home though. He is not afraid. It is his country. His friends are being imprisoned. Thousands and thousands of people are being killed. It’s incredible that he is here – it’s been over two decades. In our short conversation he said to me, through the interpreter, “Your group has given me awards three times and this is the first time I’ve been able to attend.” I said, “I’m so happy.” I told him I wrote an essay about him when we gave him the special award and that it was so good to see him in person. I never ever thought I’d get to meet him. Not with the life he’s lived for the last 15 years.
Waiting for Charlie to come meet me. It was a cold day in New York, it’s been cold all month. I don’t know what I’ll do if this joint ever closes (knock wood). I’ve been hiding out there on cold days since I moved to New York for grad school. It’s not a big place, there are bigger tables in back, but you can sit at these teeny tables by the window. And if it’s not busy, they aren’t in a hustle to get you out of there. I was early. I love their Bloody Marys. I’ve been devouring the work of war correspondent Marth Gellhorn.
Met up with my friend Luisa to sign her copy of my book. But also just to catch up (I saw her at my book signing but it was a madhouse). We live so near each other but we are both buried in work. I want to see her more. We had to meet up really early (we are both early birds), and it was just so good to be together and support each other.
After being home for a bit, I headed back down to New York. Why did I move again? Then I headed down to the Jersey Shore (memories! God, the flashbacks on the GSP were intense, and not entirely positive. There were times when I was working at Martha Stewart and I would get up at 4 in the morning – no shit – drive to Avon (my regular beach) – it was an hour to get there, an hour to get back. I’d sit on the beach with my coffee, watch the sunrise, and then drive home. Put on my work clothes, get on the bus, and go to work. (Martha wasn’t a remote job.) Anyway: I spent so much time on the Jersey Shore – by myself – driving around, pulling up to some old beach motel, and checking in. Off-season. I mean, it all sounds so lovely, and it was but it was like the worst time in my life.) But my friends Sheila and Mike live down there and Sheila organized for me to come visit her book club to talk about Frankenstein. I met so many nice people. Mike does chalk drawings all over town – he is known as “Chalk Man” – and he decorated the sidewalk in front of the bookstore. I met so many nice people at this book club. They all read Mary Shelley’s book, and saw the movie, so we had an amazing conversation about both, and questions of adaptation, but also just Mary Shelley hereself and who she was. The “moderator” was a high school teacher for 30 years, and she taught Frankenstein every year. She knew everything, which was so fun. I loved talking with all these people who came out on a cold school night to talk about books. It was lovely.
I stayed down in New Jersey for a while with my friends. We sat around talking all day. It was cold, Mike kept a fire going, the dogs kept coming over to me “showing me” their toys. It was so adorable. The ceiling looks like this. It made me feel peaceful to look at. Sheila’s artist friend did it for her.
And then came the snow. I got home just in time, because I honestly couldn’t really go anywhere for the next couple of weeks, since we got a lot of snow. I had a couple of hair-raising drives. I made a judgment call to drive home from my sister’s and the plows hadn’t come out yet and it was so stupid. I was skidding all over the road, but there was this treacherous hill out of my sister’s area and I didn’t want to turn around and have to drive down it. I made it home, but it was scary. The plow was late to my neighborhood. It was pretty wild to see a totally un-plowed road. My neighbor came over with his little snowplow and plowed out our driveway which was so helpful. It would have taken us hours to do it ourselves.
The temperature never rose enough for the snow to melt and then came another snowfall. My neighborhood actually must be the last on the list to be plowed. It’s not great out there, and you really don’t want to be driving when it’s not plowed! Last weekend we got another snowfall, over 10″, but I was in New York, watching the storm approach, and worrying about train delays as well as my car sitting in the lot, being snowed in. A mound of white. I do love a good snowfall though. I stocked up on food for us, cooked a bunch of stuff, and waited it out. The wind, too! The wind was crazy.
Quonset huts in snow. I want to live in one of those.
