Back from Winter Walk, it's early yet, only about 8:30. I walked the walk - strolling very pleasurably first up Warren Street, then down, stopping into a few shops and galleries that usually I don't have quite the temerity to go into but this evening they were all packed, and several had little performing groups - a jazz quartet or quintet in one (that I glimpsed through a shop window), a pair of comely belly dancers in another, a small group of choristers on a street corner, a cabaret singer showcased in a shopfront miked to the street, crooning Joni Mitchell's River. I'm always amazed how many people turn out for Winter Walk. Hudson seems like the sleepiest small city on a typical day - and tonight it was just packed with happy pedestrians milling up & down the street, doing some holiday shopping at the really terrific one-of-a-kind shops, antiques and boutiques. Then I went for a glass of wine at the loveliest little hole-in-the-wall wine bar that I've been to only once before - last year's winter walk. I ordered a glass of house red, stood with it for a few moments, then sat at the bar when a stool became vacated, chatted a bit with a guy next to me (but no vibes, for the usual reason), ended up observing the lovely bar waitress carefully pour all the pours (god wine is expensive - by the glass, in a bar) and I'm afraid, for not narcissistic reasons, ended up making eye contact with myself in the enormous silvered mirror behind the bar upon which was crayoned the menu of wines offered by the pour. But I have to say - I don't look bad, if I say so myself. Considering, I mean - considering my age, my body type. But I look all right, maybe better than all right.  During winter walk, and in some of the places I stopped into (I was by myself) I noticed a few good looking guys - and also noticed a few good looking guys noticing me - eye contact. So - hope!

Silliest post ever, I know, I'm just feeling - I don't know, betwixt & between. I could only stay for one drink at the wine bar since I had to drive home. No sight of gingerbread boy. But it was very early. If he was even around, I didn't see him on the street. It's okay. Last year's winter walk was, for me, a one-off, an extraordinary experience that - I suppose I'm glad didn't get repeated in quite the same over-the-top hallucinatory way. Can't there be some middle ground though? Mr. iPhone's gone missing, but someone else is possibly back, but what does that ever mean for me really?

Well, I'm glad you, my beloved darlings, know of my poetic blog full of love and longing - I wish you could also see that I look quite nice too (outfit tonight: black cashmere twin set, formfitting dark jeans).

The guy I was seated next to at the bar saw full well precisely what I look like right now, this year of our Lord 2010 - but has no idea - had no interest, it just never got to the 'so what do you do' stage - that I write. I fantasize - yearn - for that all to come together in a way that makes sense - that unlocks something - that the guy is like - likes the way I look, the way I write, and the look in his eyes says it all - oh - it's you