Where did this sunshine come from?

First of all:

Look, I know I'm late to the party, but Lizzo is so great. I just want to listen to "Juice" on repeat. I'M INTO IT.


Secondly:

This whole thing of emotional resilience is fucking amazing. I don't really know where it came from...maybe I was building the muscle while I was on Gabapentin*, and then when I dropped the med I bounced straight up into the sunshine? Like when you walk around with a heavy pack for a while and then when you put it down you feel like you might float up into the air. I can't think of another explanation but it's amazing, and I hope it stays.

Like, my godmother is extremely ill right now--she has a treatable but incurable cancer, so there's no knowing how much time she has. That is truly awful news, and I sat in my car and cried for an hour when I found out. But miraculously, I'm ok. It's a horrible thing that is happening but it's somehow not blackening my entire landscape.

I've gotten middling to bad sleep for the last week, and I had hoped this past weekend would be my chance to catch up--but (probably because of who I am as a person, or maybe because it's my Fate to never go to bed on time) it wasn't. I still averaged between six and seven hours, when I'm a person who needs eight. And then last night I'm not sure I even hit five. For most of my life, a night like last night would have had me in hysterics. But it didn't.


Guys, walking through this world every day without wearing the 1960s solid metal deep-sea diving suit that is chronic depression is like winning the goddamn lottery. It's incredible. 10/10, would recommend.















*In case I didn't cover this before (since I never write this decade), I was on gabapentin for several years to address the nerve pain I get due to an inherited degenerative neurological disease, but since Ian and I are considering starting a family, we were trying really hard to find a way for me to function without it. My nerve pain is triggered by stress, and for the last several years the prevailing theory has been that it got too bad for me to handle (without medication anyway) while my dad was in the hospital for two straight months with an infected pressure sore, and my friend went into the hospital at the same time with ovarian cancer. But then when we examined the situation further, we remembered that I had also started drinking coffee during that time period, and I decided to experimentally cut back on coffee. My pain was instantly a hundred times better, so I've (very sadly) dropped coffee and dropped gabapentin, and now I control the pain with CBD capsules and/or Lion's Mane Mushroom capsules, depending on my pain levels.

And gabapentin...I knew it was rough stuff, but man. The withdrawal made me sick for days, and once I was off of it I realized that it had been keeping me depressed and giving me pretty extreme brain fog and memory problems. Life is so much better without it, and I'm so grateful that I'm able to function without using it now.

Temporal displacement

We keep having these warm days lately, and I keep thinking I'm about to go to Louisiana. Today there's zydeco music on the radio (in Virginia!) and that does my heart good. And Festival International just released their Festival Wednesday lineup. Just waiting on the Thursday-Friday lineup, so I can figure out how much time to ask off of work...



I have a new job, by the way. Working with kids. I was enthusiastic about it, but now I find that I have a bad attitude toward the whole thing. It's a pretty nice place, and they are nice people, and I find that I don't want to be a person who makes a living by working with kids anymore. Or not again. So now I really need to step on it. Pick a direction and get going.


Also, I made a Pinterest, and that is eating my life this week. Last week it was Words With Friends, and now I have at least a half-dozen abandoned games that I'm trying to work up the motivation to finish.

Shifts

Tonight, for the first time in a long time, I began to consider the possibility of being a teacher. A writing teacher. I've been editing papers for a friend who is in grad school, and I love it. I love it. I love it so much.


Also I ended up at Starbucks tonight and there on the counter was a Michael Buble Christmas cd. Halfway through my hot chocolate I decided that I couldn't leave without it. I put it on in the car as I drove home through the driving rain, and it took about a song and a half for my cheeks to start to ache from smiling so hard.

"...but it's hard to stay mad when there's so much beauty in the world."

Today did not necessarily begin as I would have hoped, but it has been a beautiful day.

I woke up feeling somewhat rested, which was wonderful, even if I did temporarily obliterate that healthy feeling by stubbornly refusing to not eat cereal for breakfast*, and I went to work for Mrs D organizing and whatever, and I was in such a good mood. Regardless of my morning or my stomach, how could anyone possibly be upset when the world has transformed into a red, yellow and orange pointillism painting, and the air is streaming with brightly colored leaves and filling with breathtaking flocks of starlings? How could anyone do anything but grin and sing into the wind when the air is seventy-five degrees in November, and the radio is playing The New Radicals and Alanis Morrisette and Miranda Lambert, with Eric Hutchinson in the cd player?

I came home from Mrs D's for a little while to check email and make more delicious fried eggs with tumeric and chili powder, thyme and garlic in coconut oil, then went to tutor Mary and help her prepare for her history test (why didn't I think this stuff was interesting when I was in school?). Afterward I made a deposit at the bank, dropped off my car at the service station for an oil change and inspection, and walked the  two or so miles home. It wasn't my favorite venue or time of day for walking--I was on a main road with no sidewalk, and I was walking between the sunset and the appearance of the stars, so the scenery wasn't particularly relaxing or pretty--but after a few minutes I started to tune in to the smells of the warm grass and crunchy fall leaves, and that was very nice. The evening breeze was delicious, and the stark contrast between the main road and my quiet, sleepy little street made it seem even more peaceful than usual. A cat wandered over from a driveway across the street, and after I scratched its ears it followed me halfway home, hoping for more love.














































*By the way, I keep forgetting to mention this, but I think I just became lactose intolerant. That would be funny if I were kidding, but I'm not. I am not kidding. And that means that I am upset, because I love milk and other milk-related products. I mean, cheese! Yogurt! Hot chocolate! Ice cream! And I eat cereal for breakfast every day! And do not even talk to me about soy or rice or almond milk. Don't even start. I am grieving right now. Just leave me alone.

A sleepy reflection

A new (to me) love song came on the radio as I drove home today from Camp, and suddenly it seemed like such a great time to fall in love*. The world just felt like things were clicking into place, and (despite the fact that I rarely meet new people) this could happen any time. Bam. Soulmatehood.

I mean, this shouldn't be too difficult, right? I'm pretty awesome. You, theoretical mystery man, are pretty awesome too. We'd be great together. So it's cool, you can go ahead and show yourself now. No need to be shy. Just step right on up. Let's buy some finger jewelry and make a whole bunch of babies.



I say that like I'm good at relationships. Love songs (and the effects thereof) are so ridiculous. Annnd just a little bit frustrating.



In other news, this:

It was 7:40 am. Eye circles are my prerogative. Taken post-staff-morning-yoga, and at the swim hole, obviously. I've gone to morning yoga twice now (that makes two and then three times in the past ten years that I've intentionally woken up before staff meeting), and each time at the end I leave and walk toward the creek. I stop fifteen feet shy of the water and take off my shoes as though I'm stepping onto a holy ground of old concrete and grass and gravel, and walk carefully to the ladder, descend three steps, and sit down with my feet in the water. The slanting sunlight is savoury on the water--rich and delicate. And when I run my hands along the skin of the stream, it feels like cool silk. I've been late to staff meeting both times.

And this:

This is Daniel, and he is magical, and this picture took us about fifteen tries to take. We ran out of time during snorkeling interest group time, and then finally succeeded (with a camper behind the camera this time) at Pool Night. 

And look where I get to work:

I like this picture. Please don't steal it.

*Yeah, I know. Weird.

Tone.

You know what's utterly delicious? Leftover Chinese food: beef with broccoli from that takeout place down the street. You know what's really not that delicious? Salad with no chicken in. Just saying.


ALSO COMPLETELY DELICIOUS AND WITH WHICH I AM UNREASONABLY OBSESSED:




Also omg fried rice is the best thing ever, ever, ever invented. Ever.



On another note, it totally sucks when people seem really awesome and then you realize that they don't actually, you know, like, understand the concept of boundaries. Or, for example, the idea that the world doesn't revolve around what they want. Or that their problems are not my problems. It's not the most endearing thing in the world.



On yet another note, Sunday was largely really awesome. Jack and our parents and I had 8:30 am "brunch" for mother's day, after which Jack and I each crashed for several hours. Generally I try to get to church on Sunday mornings, but we had been to the funeral for Kelly's grandmother on Saturday, which included a mass. It was (of course) very sad, but the service was beautiful. Being around so many people that I loved was beautiful. So anyway, no church on Sunday. When I woke up there was a distant* cousin stopping in at our house on his way out of town, so we talked and had lunch, and he's an interesting fellow. Possibly an electrical engineer? Or trained as such. I spent most of the rest of the day cleaning my room (relative success!), and at one point took a break to walk Miley. There were several separate points of awesomeness on said walk:

I smelled honeysuckle!
I also smelled cut grass!
I also smelled cigarette smoke, which would normally be not-awesome, except that it was coming from Gina, whom I have not seen in probably eight years. She lives in the Norfolk area, and her mother is a friend of my mom's and her maternal aunt--River's mom--lives behind us. She and her mom and grandmother AND HER DAUGHTER were in town for mother's day. Her daughter is six now! I had never seen her before, but she is so beautiful. It made my day to see them.


































*I actually have no idea how we are related, but "Armistead" is a family name, and I'm pretty sure someone referred to him as a cousin at some point. Actually, there are rather a lot of people to whom I am related, but related in some completely obscure (to me) way. So "distant" here really only means that he isn't a first cousin, or (as far as I know) a second.

Luckily, you'll probably read the more recent entry before reading this.

What was that I was saying a while ago, about how whatever goes up must come down?

That's a depressing sentiment.

This past weekend was wonderful. It was really, indescribably great, in so many ways. Saturday night I went to bed so happy that I couldn't fall asleep. On the drive home I was just basking in the beauty of the weekend, and working so hard to hold onto it that I didn't take my phone off of airplane mode until Charlottesville.

I had gone in in a terrible mood. I had had an experience with a guy I didn't really know that left me feeling disillusioned and used. Saying that makes it sound much worse than it was--it's not like anything drastic happened. I just met someone who seemed cool until it became apparent that I was only interesting for my looks and for the possibilities I might present as an object. I have never felt so used, and looking back, I think it hurt me more deeply even than I've consciously realized. I am not even really sure that he realized what a jerk he was being (though, of course, he may have been completely aware), but throughout the weekend I needed to almost constantly remind myself to let it go; remind myself that I was in my favorite place in the world, that I was surrounded by friends and love, and that that was what mattered.

This is a song that I had heard, loved, and forgotten. I remembered it, found it, and bought it last night. Woodie Guthrie wrote the words and never put them to music, so after his death, Nora Guthrie (Woodie's daughter) asked Ellis Paul to put the lyrics to music. God's Promise.




(I didn't ever finish this entry--just wrote a bit and abandoned it. Don't remember what else I had in mind to say.)

A smorgasbord

Have you seen that Direct TV commercial ("Opulence. I has it.")? The one with the miniature giraffe? Oh, excuse me: the petite lap giraffe. This is ridiculous.

I really have a thing for Star Wars. Possibly I haven't mentioned this, as I haven't been actively obsessive about it in a very long time, but my deep affection remains. And no, no, I do not mean episodes I-III. Those really hardly count as being part of the Star Wars canon. Anyway, I saw these bookends somewhere the other day, and I want them. I want them so bad. Unfortunately, I can't really afford to spend $200 on them. $200 bookends! WTF? They're extremely well-rendered though, so I guess I can sort of understand. And I love the idea of taking a scene from A New Hope where the characters are actually pushing against the walls and transforming it into bookends where they're pushing against the books. The timeline is slightly off, but I will accept this, as messing up the timeline allowed them to include the swamp monster thing (I actually used to know what this was called--that's how obsessed I was--but I've forgotten. Probably it's for the best) and Luke being thrown around by it.

You may have noticed that I've been kind of into Ok Go lately. I mean, more so than usual. Here is the link to their appearances in the NPR archives.

Speaking of Ok Go, there's a song on their album that I didn't really notice the first few times through. It's called "Needing/Getting," and it's awesome. If it had existed when David and I broke up (or at least, if I had been aware of its existence), it would have pretty much been the anthem of my life. Have a listen:

And here are the lyrics, if you're interested:

I've been waiting for months, waiting for years, waiting for you to change*.
Oh, well there ain't much that's dumber, there ain't much that's dumber
than pinning your hopes on change in another.

Oh, yeah I still need you--but what good's that gonna do?
Needing is one thing, but getting? Getting's another.

So I've been sitting around, wasting my time, wondering what you've been doing,
oh it ain't real forgiving, it ain't real forgiving
sitting here picturing someone else living.

And oh, yeah I still need you. But what good's that gonna do?
Needing is one thing, and getting, getting's another.

I've been hoping for months, hoping for years, hoping I might forget.
Oh but it don't get much dumber, it don't get much dumber
than trying to forget a girl when you love her!

And oh, yeah I still need you--but what good's that gonna do?
Oh needing is one thing, and getting
getting's another.

Other things:

Yesterday I was told that I "work like a Jamaican." I don't, really, but it was amusing to hear. I kept remembering that phrase today while I was standing outside pressure washing a tool shed. It's rather wet work, especially when the jet of water hits a corner in the woodwork and throws everything back onto you. It's like standing in your own little private rainstorm. On the upside, rainbows.

Speaking of water jets, Jr and I were driving down my street yesterday, and there was a sprinkler on! A sprinkler! (I just typed "sprinklet" by accident. I like it.)

Something I've been trying to figure out and put into words lately: maybe these aren't warring sides in every person, but they are warring sides in me: stoicism and hedonism/epicurism**. These aren't quite a dichotomy, but that doesn't mean they can't fight. For me, stoicism almost always wins. It's not that my actions are never decided by my hedonistic/epicurean side, but that's in the moment. Hedonism, or my brand anyway, is all in the moment, and in the long run, it doesn't make me happy. Stoicism is long-term: it keeps on walking after hedonism lies down to take a nap--and that's when it turns around, looks at what the hedonist has done, and passes judgment. So. Yeah.

From thefreedictionary.com:

Stoic:

1. One who is seemingly indifferent to or unaffected by joy, grief, pleasure, or pain.

2. Stoic A member of an originally Greek school of philosophy, founded by Zeno about 308 b.c., believing that God determined everything for the best and that virtue is sufficient for happiness. Its later Roman form advocated the calm acceptance of all occurrences as the unavoidable result of divine will or of the natural order.

Hedonism:

1. Pursuit of or devotion to pleasure, especially to the pleasures of the senses.

2. Philosophy The ethical doctrine holding that only what is pleasant or has pleasant consequences is intrinsically good.

Epicurean***:
         1. Devoted to the pursuit of sensual pleasure, especially to the enjoyment of good food and comfort.















*Just to be fair and to be clear, I wasn't just waiting around for David to change. We both needed to change. Things in general needed to change--but they didn't. Or not in the way that we (or I) might have hoped. But they're pretty good now. Things are pretty good.

**I usually work so hard to avoid putting two colons in one sentence. Sometimes though, I just don't feel like rewording the whole thing for the sake of pet peeves. I'm not actually even sure that that's technically incorrect, but it feels like it would be.

***Please forgive the fact that these are different parts of speech. Probably you aren't as much of a perfectionist as I am and didn't even notice, but it's killing me. I'm leaving it because the definition of "stoic" on this particular website is better than the definition of "stoicism."

Regarding my standards:

Firstly, let me say that yogurt plus granola plus banana slices equals a culinary masterpiece. This almost counts as "cooking" for me. Isn't that sad?


Secondly, Miley-the-drama-queen was itching for a walk at 1:30 after I took her at 9:30, so in order to tide her over until her 4pm walk, I took her up the street to the pond. The reason any of this is worthy of note is that there were frog eggs in the water. Pretty awesome. They weren't placed extremely well--clumped around a random stick that was/is stuck into the muck* at the bottom--but still. Awesome. Miley splashed past it and disturbed a frog, actually. I don't think that amphibians particularly guard their eggs, so maybe it was just a random little guy/girl hanging around, but still. Cool.




EDIT: My BestBuy stuff came in the mail! NEW CDS FTW. I haven't bought an album in ages, so it's pretty exciting. It's pretty exciting especially because of the new OkGo cd chillin in the mailer envelope. Want to know what's in the liner notes? Graphs. They did an analysis of the cd and another of the book after which it is named, and presented graphs on comparative sentence length, syllables, parts of speech, and words in common, in that order. From a latter page of the notes:

"The diagrams on pages 2-7 compare the album's lyrics to an excerpt of the book it is named after, General A.J. Pleasonton's The Influence of the Blue Ray of the Sunlight and of the Blue Color of the Sky, published in 1876 by Claxton, Remsen & Haffelfinger, Philadelphia. The graphs on page 8 compare the lyrics with the entirety of Pleasonton's text."

Have I mentioned that this band is great?


Even more intense:

"The front cover displays themes common to the book and the album. Each line represents a sentence, with the album's lyrics (not including the bonus tracks) fanning to the left and the text of the book fanning to the right. Each theme is represented by a color. For sentences dealing with multiple themes, the colors are added together as light is...such that each theme's color both lightens and tints the resultant line."

Themes:
1. Unfounded or Wildly Broad Claims
2. Wonderment
3. Causality/Unavoidable Consequences/ Compelled Behavior
4. Reference to an Individual, or Direct Address to/from One
5. Anecdotal or Expository Context
6. Figuring It All Out
7. Unanswerable/Impossible/Rhetorical Questions
8.  Light/Optics/Color
9. Fire/Combustion/Chemical/Physical Reactions
10. Attraction/Repulsion
11. Things That, in Retrospect, Proved to be Wrong
12. Plants and Animals/Animal Behavior
13. The Sky or Things Falling From It [As I typed this, I heard "and now the sky is falling" play through my speakers. Ha.]
14. Women
15. Optimism/Hope
16. Dissatisfaction
17. Bodies/Body Parts/Bodily Function
18. God/Faith
19. Corruscation
20. Death
21. Magic
22. Global Mechanics
23. Confusion/Curiosity
24. Pride
25. Prescriptions for a Better World

Theme visualization:

*That "stick stuck muck" thing was entirely unintentional. I just couldn't find a more satisfactory way to word it.

I still love you, Rams.

VCU lost. I am disappointed, but it happens. I feel bad for them.


Today I woke up late (again) and took a shower and went shopping with Kelly and Maggie. This was all Kelly's idea ("Kelly, wasn't this your idea? Why are we shopping?" "There are sales."), but I'm pretty sure she didn't buy a thing. Maggie and I did the talk-through-the-dressing-room-wall thing--who designs this stuff? Why in the world would there be a zipper there? God, I love this shirt. Who would pay $25 for this? I hate money. This is the best dress ever--while Kelly wandered. I spent too much money today, but that was partially because I had to fill my tank, and that cost right about $70. Great.


An aside: this cat has been trying to muscle her way into my lap for about 45 minutes. I mean she really has been trying hard. She left a few minutes ago, I let my guard down, and BAM. Here she is smearing cat hair all over my new clothes. Thanks, Faith. Thanks. I love you too.


Eventually I kept my promise to my friend Joe to visit him and bring iced cream. I assumed he'd want the iced cream because he's just gotten his wisdom teeth out, but he's actually feeling pretty okay. So that's good. He lives about 40 minutes away, which was a little intimidating (aka "which sounded like a lot of work"), but it was a nice drive. I was evidently feeling a little pensive on the way home, and I made up a song. I have never, ever, ever done this before. It's not like there are a lot of lyrics, but I made up a song. I sang it into my camera so I wouldn't forget it, and I thought about posting it here, but what with my fatigue, and my focusing on driving more than singing, and the road noise and so on, the sound isn't all that great. Maybe another time. This type of thing embarrasses me. And I'm aware that it isn't particularly awesome or original, but I was just driving home and suddenly decided to sing it. And that felt sort of cool. So it goes,

You
You are there.
You are always there when I call your name,
You are always there when I call.
You are always there when I call your name
You are always there when I fall.

And when I run,
and when I'm run down,
and when I run around,
you are there.

Ok Go (reflections on college idiocy)

The night that I met Ok Go and didn't even realize how GDMFing awesome they were will forever live on in my memory in awesomeness and infamy. I had only heard one song, and only because Zach had put it on a mix cd for me, and I harassed him until he answered my "who the hell are these guys? So awesome!" questions. It was this one:



And then they came to play at our school. For free. And after some deliberation, and some assurance from my music source that they were good, I went. And they were awesome, I'm sure, but concerts are always better when you know more than one song. And at the end, when we cheered them back onstage for an encore, they said, "You know, bands always sound much better on cd than they do live, so we're just going to play a song from our new cd for you." And we thought,

Surely, they must be joking. Then a cd was placed into a boom box on the stage.


A joke, right?


They all lined up, pushed play, and stood still. We're almost on the verge of booing at this point. But then!

The A Million Ways dance. No one had seen this before. The video hadn't been released yet, as far as I know. And it was awesome.





And they came and hung out for a while afterward, and they were great. And so patient with an obnoxious freshman (sophomore?) like me who obviously knew nothing about them, didn't even know that they had a new member, bought the old cd and asked the new guy to sign it. Several of us took a picture with Damien Kulash with Megs' camera. I never even saw the picture. I could die. I spoke to Tim Norwind and had no idea that he was hilarious. I spoke to Dan Konopka and didn't know he was great. I made Andy Ross sign his name on Andy Duncan's album page. I'm an idiot. I guess these things happen, but it's a little painful to think about.


But anyway, I love them now, and that's the best I can do. Not in an "I know everything about every one of them and I dream about them at night" sort of way (actually, I had to get most of their names from Wikipedia just now), but in an "I think you guys are great. Your videos are great. Your music is great. I love the way you left your label so you could do what you wanted. If you ever decide to stop making music I am going to be quite sad" sort of way. And do you know what else I love about them? I love that they don't play into the "we're famous and sexy" BS that goes on in the world of music. I love that you get to see all of their faces in their videos. It's not "Damien and band"--it's Ok Go. And they're not demigods--they're guys from Chicago who make great songs and great videos.

For reference, the first video above, "Get Over It," is great in a pop rock, "our lead singer is hot" kind of way, and it does have a little bit of OkGo flair in the insertion of things like a random bale of hay and a few seconds of ping pong, but it's bland. I still like it, but it's really bland. By contrast, here is one of their more recent music videos:



Thoughts? They're so odd and so awesome, and I'm more in love with the music from "The Blue Color Of The Sky" all the time. It's in the mail right now, on its way into my very own loving hands and cd player. (And it's all because of you and your Best Buy Rewards Certificate, Sara. What would I do without you? I don't deserve your friendship, I'm pretty sure...)

From Today:

Anna is awesome. Duh.

I hung out with David for a short amount of time and didn't even get upset or anything. Win.


Volunteer work never sounds good to me at all, but I love helping out at the RBA, often even if I'm helping with things I don't even like to do. Today I spent several hours trying to get in touch with campers who came last year but haven't sent in their registration forms this year. Some had moved. A lot had disconnected numbers. A lot of the numbers I called had answering machines that didn't give their name. It was pretty awesome though, every time I could get somebody on the phone. And I had a good time.


I tutored Jacob tonight, probably for the last time, and afterward taught him to make origami frogs (and taught his mom and sister to make 3D paper stars) as a going-away gift. He's a good kid. They're a nice family.


I went to Kelly's after work and we watched Wipeout, which is along the same lines as, or is sort of a cross between, MXC and that one gladiator (?) show with the super hardcore obstacle courses. What's it called again? Anyway, Wipeout was awesome. All those shows are awesome.


Rock music: I love it. And I need to fix my OkGo cd. I've tried to be nice to it, but six years is a long lifespan for a disc. I sometimes have a hard time understanding why everyone doesn't love OkGo, or Everclear, or Ambulance LTD. I just don't get it.







Thanks to my friend Zach Bowman for accidentally introducing me to Ambulance LTD by raising the idea of going to see The Killers at the NorVa in...2006? There are quite a few things I owe to Zach Bowman, actually: for one, he introduced me to OkGo as well. THANK YOU ZACH.

UNTITLED. Because I do what I want.

In what world is it acceptable for the outside temperature right now to be 28 degrees? Miley and Faith and I are all curled up warmly in front of the wood stove, and that's great. but very soon I am going to have to take Miley outside. I'm not looking forward to it.


On another note, here (http://writeordie.com/) is a really awesome program that I bookmared yages ago and then completely forgot about. It is awesome. I think I might buy it, if only to support sheer awesomeness on principle.


Speaking of buying, I did not buy any Leona Lewis albums after all. I did buy a couple (a few?) of her songs.

Also, I'vce realized that (I think) that yesterday's reference to Marcus was the first I'd posted here, and it was negative. That's not really the impression I want to give. Marcus is super cool. I just, you know, suck at communicating with people I haven't known since infancy. It's an issue.


LASTLY, I just want to say that almost all of the above was typed without looking at the screen, because I am comfortable and don't feel like picking my head up off my arm. This would make more sense if you realized that I am literally lying on my stomach on the floor in front of the wood stove. Anyway, this is why I put the "write or die" link in parenthesis instead of as a hyperlink, and this is also why there are typos--because I am proud of there not being many, and I have therefore decided to leave the typos that I couldn't correct without looking because, you konw, there aren't that many.

Oh, right.

It's been a while since I've dealt with my habit of emotional subduction. Or rather, I deal with it all the time, but I generally deal with it in solitude. It's been a very long time since I considered the addition of another variable--another person. And when I am just floating along in my solitary state I sit around and daydream about connecting with other people--but then when I try to let other people get closer, I begin to remember the difficulties, and the hoops I put everyone through, including myself.


I wish it were warm enough to go swimming in the river, or to drive up to the mountains and jump off redneck rock in Goshen Pass, or dive into the lake at Douthat. I'd even settle for a chlorinated pool right now. I just crave the feeling of slicing through the water, holding my breath and diving down deep, and being held and borne up by that viscous cool blueness.



For a while now I've loved Leona Lewis's song "Better In Time," and I just went to watch the video on Youtube before buying the song on Itunes. And then I went to watch another of her videos. And then another. I think I may buy her album in a moment. Or one of her albums? I don't know how many she has--I just really like her.

I am Alice.

1. I learned to use a chainsaw yesterday. I used said chainsaw again today. My back aches.

2. I am moody this past weekend, through today.

3. I dislike having disagreements with the woman who processes my tutoring invoices. I got an email back saying that $29 had been removed from my total invoiced, because "the last payment processed included a session...on 12/7 that had already been paid." This is despite the fact that I "showed my work" (as it were) as requested, and made a note on my invoice that there were a few dates from December on the scans (with "x"s next to them!) that had already been invoiced, and that those should be ignored. I listed the dates I was invoicing. I added up the hours. I multiplied the hours times the rate and showed the total. Even so, $29 was subtracted from my invoice. I feel like she thinks I'm trying to cheat the company or something. I'm sure she has a lot of invoices to go through, but it's still irritating. Hopefully she will read my [more politely worded than this] "um no, I did not invoice you for that date, here is an excerpt from my invoice which shows you the dates for which I invoiced you" email and give me back my money, and then I can stop being annoyed.


4. The chainsaw thing was pretty cool. I'm pretty excited about that. While I have opened up to other power tools, I have been holding off on chainsaws because they are, in my estimation, about the least safe power tool ever. But whatever. I helped cut down and cut up a tree. It's because I'm a badass. (Ha.) It's been nice to work outside for the past few days though, even if the unseasonably warm weather is kind of weird. The crocuses have been up for at least a week now, and I heard frogs tonight when I walked Miley. As I said the other day, I really hope they don't freeze. The low again the night after tomorrow is projected to be 31 degrees.


It rained today, though it was supposed to thunderstorm. While I was working this afternoon, painting and clearing brush in the yard, I could feel the air thicken with the coming rain. The first fat drops splattered onto my windshield just after I got into the car. I have been waiting for a sky-splitting, tree-cracking thunderstorm all night. Come on, weather!

I thought I had more to say, but I guess not--or not at this moment. There have been some things about David floating around in my head though, lately. Sunday it will have been a year since we broke up. I considered writing him an extremely dramatic letter, and I guess I'll probably consider it again. Something along these fairly predictable lines:

I think I'll always love you, though I've put out the flames. The embers are banked in my pocket. I'm not asking for anything, because I know that the ways in which we fit together are broken ways. The broken pieces of me fit alongside the broken pieces of you and that keeps us each broken. Then maybe something else about how I never ("never") find other people attractive anymore* unless I convince myself to. And then about how, (hand to brow,) this will be the last letter I ever send to you. Goodbye [and have a nice life].

As though I could ever send or stick to or even consistently fit the description of such a thing. It only seems like a good idea when I'm feeling emotional and then "How's It Gonna Be" comes on the radio, or "Two Coins" gets stuck in my head.

In my defense, I've loved Third Eye Blind (the 3EB album, anyway) since sometime in middle school, and Dispatch since 2004, which was before I even knew David. So me loving those songs far predates me being stupidly-broken-up-emo.

Excuse me. Apparently it's "How's It Going To Be," and he simply mispronounces his own lyrics throughout the song:




On another note, my brother Jack has a Netflix subscription on the tv downstairs, and I watched Alice In Wonderland tonight. I had low expectations, which is, in my opinion, the best way to approach movies. (High expectations are nearly always dashed, even by good movies. This is possibly because I set my standards extremely high or extremely low--I'm not good at middle ground.)

I loved it. I loved it. I loved that it made sense of a story I've never understood; not that I gave it much effort or even read all the way through, but it had always been a bit of a puzzle. So much nonsense. Seeing the story gave it shape for me. And then, even more, I loved the idea of Alice becoming Alice. "You've lost your muchness," the Mad Hatter said. And she found it again. She grew back into herself. "I sometimes believe as many as six impossible things before breakfast," said Alice. "Count them, Alice. One: there's a potion that can make you shrink. Two: and a  cake that can make you grow. Three: animals can talk. Four, Alice! Cats can disappear. Five: there's a place called Wonderland. Six: I can slay the Jabberwocky."




















*I seriously have had this thought lately. A lot. The part I failed to remember every time though was that I tend to have long periods of singleness between relationships. This is not because no one ever wants to date me. This is because I never want to date anyone. Or, more accurately, I nearly always want to date someone, but hardly ever want to date anyone in particular. And I'm a big believer in not latching on to just any old person and starting a relationship. Partly this is because I'm kind of a closet misanthropist. But! I can slay the Jabberwocky. FTW.

There it is.

The laundry is in the dryer, the week-old clean laundry is piled in a basket and overflowing at the top of the stairs, and I am trying to squeeze another single-friends engagement into tomorrow. I sincerely hope that I can.


I was just watching the Mumford and Sons "Little Lion Man" video, and thinking how great it was that they were evidently a part of the Grammy's, though they're a bluegrassy sort of band, and bluegrass doesn't tend to hit the mainstream. And then I thought back to the episode of 60 Minutes I watched with my dad earlier, where they were discussing the revolution in Egypt and the rescuing of the 33 Chilean miners this past fall, both of which I followed in the news. And I thought to myself, you know? These are exciting times to live in. Things are really happening these days. I remembered a conversation I had with a few of my uncles a summer or two back, when they gave me a shot of vodka from a pewter shot glass that had a silver dollar as the bottom, and gave me a lesson on all the best music of the sixties--Ry Cooder and Little Feat, in particular--and I remarked that "all the good stuff happened before I was born." My uncle laughed, was flattered, and said it wasn't true. And maybe he was right. Maybe there's been excitement going on this whole time, and I've been utterly blind to it. I feel like I've been searching for a pulse in the world, and my fingers are finally finding it. Finding this generation's pulse. Finding my pulse, too.



Little Lion Man:

Quotes on a common theme

From today.

"Keep on loving what is true, and the world will come to you. You can find it in yourself."


"Connection is love. Love is connection. Every time someone pisses me off I look at them like they are my newborn baby in my arms. This is my new practice. To open my heart to every single person I encounter like I did when I pulled my children from my insides to my chest. I really suck at it. I do. But I refuse to stop trying. Because when I get it, it’s good. it’s so good. Right when I am about to tell my man he’s an asshole, I see his baby face, new and fresh. And. I just. Can’t. Do anything but love." 

In January--

Warm enough to drive with the windows down? I'll take it.


Does driving around with the window open make you feel like a badass, or is that just me? Today was a rock music kind of day.



Also, this is the song Chloe and I are supposed to learn for my cousin's wedding, which is, by the way, in a week and a half. Also, Chloe is eight hours away in Ct. Wish us luck.

I'm doing all right.

I want a rainbow raincoat, with the colors bleeding down into one another in rings until, at the bottom, purple. I want a white umbrella that I can paint with raindrops and sunshine. I want bare feet and warm puddles and distant thunder and, after nightfall, a crescendo of fireflies glittering across the fields and up into the full, luscious trees under a royal blue-black sky.

I guess I can wait, though. Afternoons of grey skies and chill wind and freezing rain have their place. And I felt so much joy, driving home after tutoring tonight, that I laughed aloud and nearly wept.




I don't love any of the videos of it, but despite my strong issues with smoking, I do love this song. Can't help it.





A quote posted by a facebook friend: "He that but looketh on a plate of ham and eggs to lust after it hath already committed breakfast with it in his heart." -C.S. Lewis. I have no idea whether Lewis actually said/wrote this, but I hope so.



Song I was listening to when suddenly smitten with a wave of nearly overwhelming joy:



I've been on a little bit of a country kick lately. Don't judge me.

When does winter officially start, again?

People often say (and I considered saying tonight) that stars are like diamonds. I stopped to consider this, though, and I have to say that we're getting it the wrong way around. A transparent little stone doesn't have much on a bright star shining through the cold night and bare November branches. It just doesn't.

As I was looking for a suitable picture of a diamond I found this post on blood diamonds. Not that it's particularly informative, but it is a good reminder of the things that go on for the sake of profit*. And come on! Diamonds aren't even rare!**



I resisted the leaf pile at the bottom of the hill tonight. This was more difficult than I originally anticipated, because it has grown substantially and because tonight the sky was clear and dark, and the stars were, as I said, brilliant. As I walked down the next block I thought about how I wished I could call David and ask him to come over and lie in the leaf pile with me. (Sometimes these things are better when shared.) Obviously that isn't really an option because we're still exes and haven't quite progressed to "friends" again, in the sense that lying in a leaf pile wouldn't be okay. As usual I wondered whether this was an "I want David" thing or an "I want someone" thing, and I came to the conclusion that the idea of lying in a leaf pile with an anonymous "someone" seemed a far less attractive prospect. I think that in this case, what I want is to lie in a leaf pile with someone I love, who knows me, whom I know. A person with whom I share a relationship based on love and understanding and mutual comfort-in-the-presence-of-you. What's the right term for that? A soul friend? Sara would probably qualify, minus the added bonus of hand-holding that would come with David if that were possible, but she's still in Scotland. It's an issue. I'm sure there are people with whom leaf pile star gazing would be enjoyable, but I'm not good at coming up with names.

Would you believe that I put more time into editing than I did into writing last night? I don't plan to do that again this evening. Just a heads-up. Can you even see a difference? Don't spare my feelings here. It's not a big deal.***


I listened to Christmas music on Lite 98 today. It has begun! I've been thinking lately that the "Christmas music from Thanksgiving to the 25th" thing is probably a marketing gimmick. Just a friendly reminder in case some idiot walks in the store without remembering that he's supposed to be emptying his bank account.

I still love Christmas music, though. Mostly.


I forgot some other things that I meant to say. Ah, well. I wonder if somewhere in my mind there is the equivalent of a grease trap. Or perhaps a more appropriate analogy would be, I wonder if somewhere in my mind there is the equivalent of that horrible space between the counter top and the refrigerator, the final resting place for all manner of spoons and cooking utensils, cheap magnets and important notices and bits of nastiness that fell from one or the other. I bet there is. Now if only I could find a way to move the refrigerator, I'd be in business.
























*Wikipedia claims that 2-3% of the market is made up of blood or conflict diamonds.

**I am trying to find an actual statistic on this, but thus far all I have is this quote, again from wikipedia: "The image of diamond as a valuable commodity has been preserved through clever marketing campaigns."

No, okay, here. I have something more substantial. Blame De Beers.


***Evidently it is late enough that I am getting self-conscious and defensive. Bed time?