11-5-10 Happy drums

After a particularly good rehearsal from which I leave buzzing lightly and newly optimistic about our prospects, Ray and I ride the subways downtown from his place in Harlem. At one stop, two drummers heave into the car, hoisting conga drums and foldable chairs behind them, which they set up in the pseudo-vestibule before beginning their patter.

"Keep the energy up and full of love," says the one in the skullcap with the star of David dangling down onto his forehead while the other adjusts his drums and smiles widely, "because it comes back down to you amplified."

They beat their drums in a groove reminiscent of "Oye Como Va" and I give them a dollar as they leave.

11-4-10 Even in Park Slope? Really?

She left work at one in the morning, after serving at a private late-night party where Patti Lupone "hugged [her] like [she] was her long lost daughter." I've been up all night watching movies, playing video games, and editing a backing track for a song my band will be playing once we book a gig.

I've been feeling a lot less stressed lately, but as the hour rolls toward 2:00 AM, I start to get paranoid. I lace up my shoes, throw on a jacket, and slip a large pocket knife into my back pocket, and step out into the wet, empty street to go pick her up at the subway station.

11-3-10 Wake up in the morning feeling like P-diddy

I've gradually set my alarm 5 minutes earlier each week, over the last few weeks, in an attempt to get back into doing a full session of yoga in the morning. This is probably the worst time to do this, since the mornings are getting darker and darker as we edge closer to winter.

This morning I wake up in the darkness, sit up, and Katie rolls over and asks me if I had weird dreams.

I tell her I think I did and wonder out loud why she asks, to which she replies, "Because you talked a lot!"

11-2-10 Acting out (staying in)

When I get home, she's sprawled, half in, half out of the papasan with the Wii remote in her lap. The screen is blank except for the tell-tale cauldron floating in the corner, telling me that she's been playing Lego Harry Potter most of the night.

I know she was upset that I had rehearsal tonight, and when I left she was a little depressed, but she's still depressed, and I'm not sure what to do.

I kiss her on the forehead as she looks up at me with that slightly dazed look that comes from too much gaming, and I say, "Hey baby, how was your night?"

11-1-10 Sous chef rhapsody

She chops the veggies, stirs the cheese and the rice together. I open cans, suggest seasonings, wash the dishes and utensils as she finishes with them.

The kitchen is clean and well lit, warm and bustling as we make dinner. Once again, something I have dreamed of since I was a kid has come true, and the home I have always wanted is that much closer to being real.

10-29-10 Some things you have to pay for after you've already used them

"Come on," she says, this strange girl whose constant, scattershot flirtation is starting to get me down. "You don't like to smoke?"

What do I say, that I really DO like to smoke, but that it inevitably leaves me feeling worse than before, lost and anxious, like I've got a bucket over my head and a hole in my chest?

"No, I like it, but it costs too much," I say, and leave it at that.

10-28-10 reminds me of the day I proposed

The stumps of downed trees still line the streets like broken teeth, reminders of the plagues God has visited on our borough this year (the hail that recently fell, while leaving no visible scars the way the tornado did, lingers more in the mind for me, as I was underground when the tornado struck).

I came up above ground from the subway yesterday only to find the remnants of a flood moving off east. One of the brightest rainbows I've ever seen shone strong and wide across a slate gray sky as the storm trundled off.

Traffic stopped, people stared, cameraphones cradled in their hands, smiles wide, and I said to my neighbor, "Looks like God won't flood us today."