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ARLINGTON, VA.–Yesterday after a flight delay in Detroit due to mechanical problems, I finally arrived in D.C., two hours later than scheduled. But no bother, Thom was there to pick me up at the airport and welcome me home. That afternoon, after he came back from work, we took a nap, and I woke up with quite a start at some time past 6 in the evening. I just get so disoriented when I go to sleep during the day and wake up after dark, you know? And maybe the darkness had also momentarily fooled me into thinking I might’ve slept into the new year.

A few of my college buddies were in town, so we decided to have a little reunion. Thom and I went to meet up with Rebecca, Jeff, and Subarna at an Ethiopian restaurant in Adams-Morgan called Meskerem–mmm, really great food and ambience–and afterwards we headed east of Dupont to the Helix Lounge for drinks. It’s a small bar, and was really crowded. (It’s sort of funny to look at their website with the picture of the lounge empty. Ah, so that’s what it looks like. I couldn’t tell last night, with all the people in the way. Heh.) As the new year approached, we went out into the street, greeting strangers “happy new year” (and in my case, just “woo! woo!”, and Thom admirably, “manigong bagong taon“) and searching the sky for fireworks. There were none. You’d think there would be; this is the nation’s capital, no? Anyway, good times.

And now your moment of zen: as I look back on 2003, I want to thank my Rebel Prince readers–you few, you happy few–for helping to make my online journaling experience worthwhile, and I wish you all the best in 2004. Cheers!

Well, tonight it’s back to the east coast for me. My winter vacation continues, though, since I don’t have to go back to work until next Monday. Rock on. Aside: one of my aunts, who currently lives with my parents, will be going to the Philippines for a month; she leaves tonight as well. I picked my flight to coincide with hers, so we’ll all be at the airport together, one big happy family… well, with two of us flying off in opposite directions. Hm, since her flight leaves a bit before mine, this gives me another chance to check out the international terminal at SFO, which was renovated fairly recently. I like it, very Euro-sleek compared to the domestic area, some of which resembles an tired office building.

Anyway, I’ll recap my California adventures when I get settled tomorrow. If I’m awake and coherent. Didn’t I swear to not take a redeye ever again?

Last week as I was skimming through my newly acquired Norton poetry anthology, I came across some poems by Thom Gunn (b. 1929). I was reminded of the first poem of his I ever read, “The Hug,” which I found a while back in an anthology called Love Speaks Its Name: Gay and Lesbian Love Poems, from the Everyman’s Library Pocket Poets series. An exquisite piece, I think. Quiet and controlled–with a complex rhyme scheme, even–but still sensual and full of warmth:

It was your birthday, we had drunk and dined
  Half of the night with our old friend
    Who’d showed us in the end
  To a bed I reached in one drunk stride.
    Already I lay snug,
And drowsy with the wine dozed on one side.

I dozed, I slept. My sleep broke on a hug,
    Suddenly, from behind,
In which the full lengths of our bodies pressed:
    Your instep to my heel,
  My shoulder-blades against your chest.
  It was not sex, but I could feel
  The whole strength of your body set,
      Or braced, to mine,
    And locking me to you
  As if we were still twenty-two
  When our grand passion had not yet
    Become familial.
  My quick sleep had deleted all
  Of intervening time and place.
    I only knew
The stay of your secure firm dry embrace.

A recap of Rajani’s visit to Washington the weekend before last… she arrived on a Friday night, and Thom and I took her to one of our regular haunts, the Silver Diner, for some good eats. Basically it was Relationship Jeff meets Independent Jeff. Yay, it was great. When we got back home, she showered us with Christmas presents. I received a couple of books (The Best American Nonrequired Reading 2003 and the Norton Anthology of Poetry… ah, the Amazon wishlist finally put to use), a CD of Hawaiian music called Call It What You Like by Mark Keali’i Ho’omalu (he’s also featured on the Lilo & Stitch soundtrack), and a mousepad with the London Underground map on it. Cool!

A visit to the Mall is de rigueur for any Washington tourist, so the next day, we went to the National Gallery, and arrived just as a gospel choir was finishing up a set of Christmas songs in the rotunda. We spent most of our time at one end of the west building (“our” corner of the Monet room contains The Japanese Footbridge and Palazzo da Mula, Venice) and of course, we browsed through the gift store. Note that the Cascade Café, a pleasant eatery that I like to frequent whenever I’m at the Gallery, closes at 3 p.m. most days, so by the time we were ready to chow down, we had to find some other place.

We got on the Metro and headed back to Pentagon City, and ate at California Pizza Kitchen, another of our haunts, though as Thom remarked (if I remember correctly), we definitely spend more time at the Borders next door. Later that night, the three of us went to a fun holiday party given by a couple of Thom’s friends. There’s nothing like a lovely home full of friends and food (and a blasé, but amusing cat) to get you all in the Christmas spirit. (Or maybe it was the knockout Irish coffee.) With Rajani and Thom there, I couldn’t help but toast “the holidays with my favorite people.” Aww.

On Sunday, Rajani embarked on a day trip to New York by herself, to see Avenue Q on Broadway¹, making Thom and me a little jealous. (Okay, a lot jealous, but we’ll take Manhattan soon enough.) That left us most of the day to ourselves, and let’s just say that he and I had no problem taking advantage of our alone time. Ahem.

Rajani returned that night, full of puppet-musical-theater glee. The next morning, before she had to leave for the airport, she and I had a leisurely breakfast, and watched some of Down with Love on DVD, my umpteenth time–oh, still so fabulous–and we exchanged our goodbyes. Thus ended our annual reunion (usually a New York escapade). Let’s hope for more frequent visits in the new year!

¹ The Clintons–as in President, Senator, and Chelsea–caught the show on Saturday, Dec. 27. Check out the all the photos on Broadway.com: “Clinton was positively aglow with praise for the show–presumably Avenue Q‘s well-placed dig at President George W. Bush helped turn the prez into a fan.” Heh. (Link via Hit or Miss.)

There’s an article in last Friday’s Times on the continuing rise of “jukebox musicals,” which repackage old tunes for the theater, and the general state of the Broadway musical (“The Broadway Musical Is Changing Its Key“). Worth a skim.

Even though it’s an oft-repeated truism that revivals dominate Broadway, it isn’t currently true. Of the 22 musicals open now, 16 are original productions.

There is something misleading about this spin, however, because you can’t actually argue that this has been a good season for Broadway music. The three other new shows–Taboo, The Boy From Oz, and Never Gonna Dance–all feature scores written long ago. Who are the Tony-nominated composers going to be? Boy George, Peter Allen and Jerome Kern?

Huh. I was IM-ing with Rajani earlier about a potluck thing I’m going to tonight, saying I’d bring “mini-quiches, not homemade, though. frozen, natch.” Up to then I’ve never really known what “natch” meant, only seeing it sparingly in print, and never in conversation. I threw it in figuring it connoted something like “mind you.” I even asked her if I used it correctly, and had an “oh, duh” moment when she told me it’s short for “naturally,” which I would’ve found out if only I’d taken the time to look it up. Which is unlike me, ’cause I’m always looking things up. You really do learn something new (to you, but obvious to the rest of the world) everyday.

P.S. Yeah, I know. You, quick to catch the larger issue here, are clutching your pearls and gasping, “frozen mini-quiches?!” much in the same manner one would shriek, “wire hangers?!” I would bake a quiche from scratch–and by “from scratch,” I mean using frozen spinach and pre-rolled pie crust–but I need a nap. So there.

A couple of weeks ago, while waiting to meet up with Thom to see The Two Towers at the Uptown, I checked out a cute little shop across the street called Wake Up, Little Suzie. They have lots of quirky, retro stuff, including a few things from Knock Knock. I especially like the Personal Library Kit. As a kid, I used to play “library.” (If you know me personally, perhaps you’re not surprised.) In the front pages of each of my books I placed a punchcard–my mom would bring them home from work; by then IBM punchcards were slowly dying out as a business technology, if not already obsolete, but what did I know, I was a kid, and they were cool–and I’d write on them the date the books were “due.” I bet I still have my collection of assorted rubber stamps, somewhere here in my old desk. I also still have a vague, unrealized goal of cataloguing all my books. Hm, someday.

Knock Knock’s report cards–let your friends and lovers know if they make the grade!–are a hoot too. No, I cannot believe I just called something a “hoot.” Maybe I need their slang flashcards.

DALY CITY, CALIF.–Yesterday’s transcontinental travels went smoothly, and I arrived last night safe and sound. In the car on the way home from the airport, my dad asked me if I was expecting a package. Apparently something had been delivered that morning, with no return address, he said. Well, when we got home, I took a look at the big box, which in fact did have a return address for Proflowers.com–ooh, flowers!–but the sender was still a mystery.

I opened the box, and inside was a lovely bouquet of flowers, including lilies; chrysanthemums; tulips, my favorite flower (also, my mom likes tulips and associates them with her birthday, which is just before spring); and evergreens. Who sent them? Thom! What a sweetheart. He included a card addressed to my family with a holiday message, and the traditional greeting in my parents’ native Tagalog: “Maligayang Pasko at Manigong Bagong Taon” (literally, happy Christmas and prosperous new year). Do I have the best boyfriend or what?

Happy holidays, everyone!