Some of my loved ones live far away. This is how we correspond:

I met Ashley this past summer at a program I was a part of. Ashley and I shared a suite and were the only two people who wrote about and presented projects about poetry. She is an incredible violinist and I have fond memories of her practicing in our common area as I lazed around procrastinating from my own work on Facebook… We also happened to be about the same size with very different aesthetics, which made shopping very productive endeavor. She taught me about Pantoums, aural simulacra, the hemming and tailoring of ruffled skirts, and the magic of Aspirin.  At the same time, she educated me on the music of Satie, Chopin, and Debussy. A quote from Ashley:

so i was about to fall asleep the other night, when our conversation per arm hair came to mind and i snorted into my pillow. i thought you would like to know.

I met Dionne…let’s see… while volunteering at Housing Works in my sophomore year of high school. She had been there a few months already when I began. I remember being struck by her firm handshake seeming inability to muster up fake pleasantries- even if it meant awkward silence between us. In time, I found that she was one of the most committed artists I knew, at least as committed as artists can be at our age. Her photography’s just gotten better and better over the years and when I compliment her on it, she becomes visibly uncomfortable. We spoke the other evening for the first time in ages and she’s been hard at work while simultaneously living a life that’s like a sitcom.

I wonder, sometimes, if the fact that some of the people I most adore live and work so far away from me is indicative of some weirdness in me. Probably, in part. But, in the last few months, I’ve felt healthier and more optimistic about the future. I know that part of it has to do with the new friendships I’ve made, old ones I’ve maintained, and the ones that have ended. I guess I really admire independence and drive in other people and integrity. Like the quality that allows people not to talk even if silence is awkward. I sort of really admire that. Is that weird?

Well, some consolation for my concerns about my distance from friends possibly being indicative of some weird avoidance… I’ve been invited to join a book club! How exciting. I tried to start one this summer with another friend. Thing is, we would schedule our meetings in SoHo and would get distracted by clothing, food, and perfume we can’t afford or avoid, and sightings of admirable celebrities like John Mayer which meant missing out on discussions about Derrida and Henry James. Anyway, I’m really looking forward to this. I know it’s nerdy. Jacek says he’s deciding between “Don Quixote” and Roberto Bolaño’s “2666″ and I’m pushing for the latter, which is probably really boring to you all so ok goodbye.