OKAY, MY GOD,
NOW JUST WHEN DID I GET SO LOVESICK?!

Here is what I want to do.

I want to move to London.

I want to slum around carrying a suitcase too big and too full that is brimming with animal print that falls out into the punkgutters I sleep in, I will bleach my hair follow around bands chew gum spend all my time with my bestfriendsidekick. I will live on a trustfund,i will try to get leadsingers to adopt me, I will throw tantrums late at night and I will be referred to as The Adolescent. I will actually be called by a name that is meant for a boy and I will dress as though I think it is 1981. I will smoke too much, and I will only eat pizza.

I will not have gooey feelings about sappy things I don't need to think about.

school days.

The first day of school was accompanied by cold weather and mental trauma. My mind was a drift all day; and the usual excitement of starting something new was nowhere to be found. In class I noted down phrases that the teachers said that made me giggle. I had  weird case of the giggles all day. One thing the teacher said in reference to there being no computers and iphones when she was in school was this: "We just sat there; TOTALLY unWIRED".  I thought this was hilarious. And then in statistics a teacher said tictac in a very strange voice and I couldn't stop laughing. So I guess I did end up humoring myself out of an otherwise bleak start. Oh, and sarah stacy and I kept getting tangled up in each others backpacks and bookbags in the book store and it was complicated and funny. It's hard being the only chainsaw on campus this year, I look around and there are just to many trees.  

"a means of getting our needs met"

Yesterday: Community to Community Day of Caring. I walk to work tottering over the 4th hill given beautiful view of the Downtown the Eastside the Water and the Mountain. I love Fridays in the Corps. I feel like we are the Real World cast (though there are 25 of us not 7). Doing projects together wearing matching shirts and prowling around the host city. Lovin' life.

At the Voyeur night before, I discovered soon after the h2h between Scoot and myself that just enough of The Special had gone to my head,
I stared straight ahead let the noise and colors take over all around me
I was in that perfect place, that I read of so much in Osho,
Completely in the present.
No past or future in my head at all.
No thoughts, no words, just the lightest twirl of the big red top we keep on the Welcome Room counter.
Staring straight ahead. Let the murmur of the bar wash over me.

Friday in the Corps. I am Team Leader of the Gardening and Cleaning Service Project. Quickly digressed to Sitting on the Stoop Smoking and Drinking Soda Project. Lunch break. Travel Time. Crisis Management training in Burfoot Park. Blah.
Would rather think about: My Weekend. My Failed Attempts at a bunch of things. My need for a nap. My Knee That Hurts.

And beyond My and Me there are other people too and of this I try to keep in mind.

Now that fall is here.

Sing me a Song

Getting lost in other peoples love stories. Poems I hardly connect with or even find that interesting. Could write good love songs but there is never anything worth all the words.

Training in the park. We stand in a circle. Step in if you identify. Things that Impacted Your Life. Questions we phrased anonymously. Pulled out of a hat. Step in to the circle if you identify and Tell your story if you wish.

My question is last and everyone steps in but no one tells a story because where could you even begin and when could you even isolate one incident from another.

Have you ever had your heart broken?

Maybe the thing is that no one is quite sure.

meeting notes

--department asked to review cases if people been on G-AU for 12 months

1. still eligible?
2. current model
3. look at G-AX?
4. skepticism, cutey old man no wedding ring oooo

Ten Additional SSI Facilitators

everyone in the room does have one, a wedding ring, and i don't want one this is an incredibly boring meeting and the lady next to me keeps looking at my crewchainsaw and frowning

$18 million reduction how are these savings being me, save 4 million dollars

I am often dreaming of things I'd (recognize) really like to experience in real life and I'm not sure if they are considered to be lucid or not.


I remember a conversation I had with meg in which we sort of recognized us growing up, like actually, and I know (have known) that I can no longer do the routine of drink, show, drink, party, repeat because my eyes close heavier each time and stomach isn't in it, not even close to in it.

And look at right now! I am sitting in a very grown-up meeting with grownups about policy and budget cuts and I'm so bored by their ties and blouses and shiny gold wedding bands that I'm taking notes on my desires for some kind of intimacy, the appropriate kind --

this intimacy is

1. not found at parties, and;
2. not found at meetings, so then;
3. where is it found?
   

What does one do when one has gone out in her world to find out new ways of loving and succeeds, in part, at having a relationship that is not heteronormativeish, but fails at being with the right person? How much time do we spend on reflecting on the fails/wins before we figure out how to weigh these lessons learned and move on from a grayish area? These are two unique problems -- the acceptance of growing older and my relationships to people changing based on that AND the notgivingup on doing thinking and acting on relationships in a different way.

Well I bailed on the grownup meeting so I guess some things are the same

and when i touch you i feel happy inside

"Bring a buddy," said Aunt Jenny and the little girls obliged, holding hands all through Disney World, holding hands like two little lines like in Madeline the Little Orphan in Paris books.

Like the witch sisters, like their witch aunts, like the elder's witch daughters, the clasp of the hands, the cuts on the hands and the blood in between. Hands, together. Witches and sisters. Together together don't break the circle.

The way we had really just met, the way it had been less than 24 hours but we wandered around the gray rain morning my hand in yours questions to get to know each other though in some ways it seemed almost pointless.

I am dragging you with me. I will clutch you where its easiest. COME. ALONG.

He's feeling possessive. No, its a formality thing. I don't even now. Couple-ship proven. Everybody can tell.

Creeping along the graveyard. Strolling past the river.
Together, want to hold you.

Palms and nails and the crease of a curving pointer finger.

Holding my hand, we look straight ahead, giggling our nerves. You pull a stem of lilacs off a passing bush, you give it to me and smile you say Mine is Yours and right at that moment i know what you mean

Palms and nails and thumbs and me.

fuck the haters

I must say,

in a few words,

that I am over,

the scene here.

I am sick and tired, my lovely bloggers,

Of polydrama that should have ended months and months ago,
of POLICE holding tazer guns to a handsup seated guy on the street,
Of said seated guy attacking women and myself and magoo,
of friendly faces that I never will connect really with,
(because of above dramas)
Of drinking a big beer to feel better in the moment,
of shitty bands,
Of hot dogs,
of my fake veganism,
Of smoking pall Malls,
of having crushes that make me feel insecure,
(since when did having a crush make you feel shitty anyway)
Of dead celebrities,
of eamonn making magoo lose her workpants,
Of working in general,
of PROFESSIONALISM,
Of the four generations (fake) of that said thing,
of myself making a list of ofs.


love, toast

rip roxanne sadie rudawski, i love you.

i am having that special kind of sadness that won't lift up from your eyelids, the kind of sadness that just creeps in and stays on your face and in your motions and your hands, the way I write things down

this sadness is the kind that compels your father to write an email to his daughters and his ex wife, telling all three of you the same thing -- that he's sorry, that he knows what she was to all of us.  this is rare -- I don't remember the last time my father told the three of us the same thing

this sadness can be full of a horrible shame.  I can't tell everyone about it with the real risk of tears brimming because some people haven't ever loved a dog.  some people haven't ever read where the red fern grows or cried in the first ten minutes of homeward bound or loved the movie babe so much because it shows everyone how wonderful border collies really are  

I know it's a good thing she's gone, that she's somewhere at peace, because as meg pointed out, all dogs go to heaven, they even made an animated movie about it, and that's a good thing.  it really is because in thinking about death and experiencing loss I think all I know is to revert back to childhood thoughts, colors and feelings because it's how to feel better.  

the thing about it is that roxie was my childhood, and to revert back to it means to revert back to a time that she was, all around me, in everything I experienced and remember, so what the hell do I do to feel better?

moments to remember

"disintegrate."

Today I realized fall was here.

I was walking down Washington, there were two people talking outside Ottos still abandoned. It was gray and misty, I was wearing sneakers and had my hood up, I wanted a fancy espresso drink and to reminisce to the point of tears. Think about falls of the past, they're portholes to me you know.

High school.
Witches.
Smoke so much and look at the field that looks far too green against the mist
on a cliff next to WillyHaine's car.
Right before your eyes, everything sets afire.

Fall as a freshman. Everything so I dont even know. You lose the excitement in the harm that you cause yourself. And the next, so full of NewExcitingThings. and yet, You don't even pay attention because you don't even get it.

And last fall, so horrible.
So lost in dark and pasts of bad, and all I even remember are Not Sleeping, Not Breathing,
dark nights at the Reef and the kind of hysterics that only were there in the dark solid space, shrouded in mystery no one could face, even I had to hide from.

Remember, eleventh grade. Its in the fall. I'm in Blakes bedroom hes going on about something he says Thats What You Do You Remember. What was he talking about "what you do", drinking, growing up, I don't know. But its all there. All I do. Remember. That fall, work at Quik Stop, everything sounds like Ashlee Simpson and smells like my carpool.

What I remember about last fall, I finally see, there was this thing. And what I remember is maybe something I can finally admit ,that maybe that thing it saved me.

Its the last thing I'd ever admit it.
Not ever not never
(even in the throes of it all).

Stringing along, ay? Like what you're doing to me Meg?

No. I cant admit. That it saved me and changed me I can tell in myself now that there is a difference and secretly most privately I can tell why. But its the last thing I've ever admitted, the last thing I've ever wanted to acknowledge. I really would like to pretend it doesn't matter it never did and especially that it never will.

But today in the fall I remembered and I saw it for real.

This fall.
1:30 AM, just walked up the hill, fateful sort of conversation about what happened this summer, what I think I learned what I think about all this college graduation growing up mumbo jumbo. As we were trekking along with Indian chai a cupcake on 4th and its so so late and I am sitting on the steps waiting-

Its not time

And it made so much sense you know. Remember that week I came back to Olympia and I cried and cried and cried.
Damage done.
You can never go back.
You can never go back even to Before.

And it kills me, it does, but at least I finally understand. I mean something at least.

I walked over the bridge and thats where I should finish this story but actually guess what I dont even know where it goes.

la lune pour l'amusement

i am sorry i haven't written in so long.  i forgot why it was helpful.

what i have been reading has INSPIRED me to login again and keep on bloggin'

I don't have a lot to say in the moment, I am at the Power Office and it's very Familiar.  I am looking up laws and writing things down and calling people back; there is no urgency to any of it and I am fine with that.  I think I was stuck in something sticky this summer.  I am getting unstuck more and more each day, which also is happening at its own lazy pace.

I was reading something my friend wrote about how there is a distinction between a willingness to fight for a desired society and the readiness to live in that society.  This is something I am ready to think about in a real way.  It is high time to start to think about how things are not working for us and how we want to do them differently.  Many people are feeling this way and if we don't acknowledge our collective/individual inadequacies then we can't figure out what to do differently.

right?

more posts sooner