Ambergris Horizon

I got up to run today - getting the workouts out of the way opens up the whole day. It was chilly, though; the sky was the color of ash and a fine, ice-needle mist blew in from the north. Once that was out of the way, I stretched and watched CSI before searching for the car keys for 45 minutes. Finally, though, I got to Starbucks, and finished Carlos Ruiz Zafon's The Angel's Game - folks on Amazon didn't like this one as much as The Shadow of the Wind, partly because it was a more violent and dreary tragedy - but those were exactly the reasons I liked it more. I like my escapism - whether it's music, movies, or literature - to be slightly heavy (think Everlast's What it's Like, Will Smith in Seven Pounds, or Park Chan Wook's Oldboy), and this was exactly the right kind of heavy.

While I was sitting in Starbucks yesterday, I met my new girl - Beth Rowley. She was singing Nina Simone's "Nobody's Fault but Mine", which sounds like a little Joss Stone, a little Diana Krall, and maybe a little Winehouse (although, personally, I'd like to hear Nina's voice over Beth's instrumentals). I haven't discovered a whole lot of new music - time for searching was limited with this whole medical education and all. More than that, though, I think it's because I'm driving less - my daily commute used to provide exposure to new artists, and familiarity with the ones I already knew. I was driving yesterday, listening to Common's Finding Forever album (which is orders of magnitude better than Universal Mind Control), when I realized that, in addition to missing the music, I missed driving. It's so calming; it was like I'd snuck back into a little cocoon that I'd forgotten about. The enclosed space - empty but for myself - has been very relaxing these past few days.

Once I finished The Angel's Game, the sky darkened to marbled charcoal, the temperature continued to plummet, and the rain swelled from the ice pricks to fat dollops that hit my windshield like grapeshot. I walked through Waldenbooks in the mall, amazed at how many storefronts had closed up since I'd last been here. Some of them had simply moved to other locations, but some of them, I'm sure, disappeared forever - the whole thing felt hollow. So I left and went about collecting the things on my list, braving the gathering storm as I drove beneath powerlines covered in the big, black birds that always appear whenever the weather turns. I got most of what I needed, but after searching through three stores, I still couldn't find the tcb hair oil I usually use - it's like this town has forgotten that they have black people. I did, however, make an unexpected find - following Thanksgiving dinner, when I poured out an unfortunately tasteless Tempranillo, I'd promised my father that I'd get him a Malbec, since I'd never had one I didn't like. I was searching through the rows of HEB's wines, when I saw not just any Malbec, but Terrazas De los Andes! This was the wine Nicole and I had fallen in love with in Argentina, and hadn't seen anywhere in any of the stores in Miami.

By the time I was ready to come home, the sky was as black as the roads - it was like driving through a tunnel, along the slick floor of which spilled red and white neon glares, dragged by headlights and taillights. I opened the wine as soon as I was in the door, and it was almost as good as I remembered - almost, because the company just wasn't the same.

I'm still relishing the idleness - stuff'll have to be done soon.....but not yet.