Ivan

Hurricane Ivan, the third or fourth hurricane to hit the south this season (depending on whether you call Bonnie and Charley, which arrived here virtually on top of one another, one storm or two), arrived in Atlanta Thursday afternoon.

The day started out dark and stormy and gradually went downhill from there. As I watched the trees whip around in the wind outside of my office window, I finally decided to leave work at 4:00 and head home.

The traffic was crawling, but moving, on Interstate 75. As I got off at my exit, the traffic lights were out, and when I got home I realized the power was out at the house as well. I had left a lighted location - the office - for an unlit location - home. I gathered together as many candles as I could find and lit them all up on the kitchen counter, and sat there in the kitchen just watching them burn.

What to do? I was hungry but couldn't cook - the gas stove uses an electric lighter and it didn't occur to me at that time to use the matches that I had lit the candles with to start the stove. The microwave, my first choice anyway, was definitely out. So was access to the computer and television and music, and despite the candles, it was too dark to read comfortably.

So I sat there alone in the gloom and wondered what to do. I thought about calling L. - she might still have electricity. She lives in Midtown, I reasoned, where there weren't nearly as many trees to down power lines as Collier Hills. But had we burned that bridge? Was it "appropriate" for me to call?

I broke down and dialed her number on my cell phone, but got her voice mail and hung up without leaving a message. However, she called me about a half hour later saying that she was without electricity, too. I suggested going out to dinner somewhere, but she told me that much of the whole city was dark, and that with the flooding and traffic lights out, it had taken her nearly an hour to drive from her office on 14th Street down to 10th Street. She had no interest in getting back in that traffic, and advised me not to try the same.

I did anyway, but I only got as far as Peachtree Street before I saw that L. was right - the traffic situation was totally gridlocked. So I turned around, went back home, and tried to read by the dim candlelight.

But at 7:00 p.m., the lights came back on. I called L. and told her that I had juice, and that she was welcome to come over if she wanted. I told her I wasn't being opportunistic - I'd have offered my home to anyone I knew who was without power. Besides, I have a guest room that she was welcome to. At first, she was reluctant due of the traffic, but after about an hour or so, she called back and said that she was still without power, but that the traffic seemed to have died down, so, if it were still all right, she would like to take me up on my offer, provided I was still willing, etc.

Of course I was still willing. It was good to see her and have her over, although the weight of our current situation hung over us like a wet blanket. The cable hadn't come back on, so we were without television or internet access (which is one of the reasons why there was no blog post for Thursday), and conversation, trying to avoid talking about the obvious, was labored.

Around 9:30, L. announced it was time for bed, and went off to the guest room. Desire and attachment got the better of me and I attempted to kiss her good night, and was disappointed by her stiffness and obvious discomfort at my advance. I stayed up and read until past eleven, meditated, and then went off to sleep myself.

The morning was still rainy, but the worst of the storm had obviously passed. I knocked on L.'s door to wake her up (she hadn't brought an alarm clock over with her), and I surprised her with a good-morning kiss on the lips. She smiled, and invited me to curl up on the bed with her. We lay there spooning for a few minutes until the whistle on the teapot announced that water was ready for coffee.

The distance between us was still there, but I felt that we were a little more comfortable around each other than we had been last night, even last weekend, for that matter. As L. left for work, I attempted a goodbye kiss, only to feel her stiffen with discomfort once again. "I don't have other friends that I kiss on the lips," she explained, and drove off.

"Friends," I thought. It appears that in my mind "former ex-girlfriend" had been reduced to "ex-girlfriend," but in her mind it had been reduced all the way down to just "friend."

The sun actually appeared for a while Friday afternoon. L. sent me an email in the morning thanking me for putting her up, and she called from her car later that day just to tell me that she was driving past Paces Landing on the Chattahoochee River, where we had taken walks during our first dates, and was reminded of me. That sentiment sounded very ex-g.f. to me.

"Thanks for having me over," she said, and I replied "no problem" - if not for luck, it might have been me asking to stay at her place. "You are welcome if you need a place for any reason," she answered.

I went to the zendo that night and had a nice, quiet sit.