Revolutions and Resolutions

Normally, I make new year resolutions on my birthday of each year, as that makes more sense to me, personally, since it’s still early in each year and gives me less pressure and I feel less cheesy, probably. I don’t know. Either way, last year, I made one goal. And totes rocked it. This year, I kind of want to make resolutions, as there is so much of 2011 I don’t want to live with anymore… things I don’t want to focus my energy on, small changes I can make that I think will help me use my energies more effectively in the year to come.

Another turn around the sun...

2012.
1. Eat More. Eat significantly more often. Stop forgetting meals. Stop eating in my car. Start eating breakfast… and not just for dinner.
2. Put together one puzzle a month. Brain power, kiddos.
3. Learn one song a month on my beautiful Adeline. Try to actually understand how to play guitar.
4. Be stronger and more confident at work. This has been an ongoing goal of mine since beginning my position at the Santana Row store but I don’t want to lose sight of what a HUGE part of my life Jest Jewels is and how completely vital it is to have goals based around it. I always want to be growing and learning and utilizing this ridiculously incredible opportunity. I want to help promote positive energy every day and I think working in retail is a true gift, as I have so many chances to interact with strangers and the dear coworkers I am blessed to call my friends.
5. Answer more phone calls. Make more phone calls. Stop being so afraid of the world.
6. More rock climbing. More physical activity that can also be social activity. Rock climbing is my favorite of these, but roller skating is another option… or going for walks. Hah!
7. Write 500 words a day, at least 5 days a week. I am, whether I want to believe it or not, a writer to the core. In my heart of hearts, I would love to be able to express myself more consistently and on a larger scale and I need to stop being such a terrified punk. I want to have at least a handful of new poems written by the end of 2012. If the world does end, I want to know that I at least gave something to it. I don’t need to be remembered, but I need to know I didn’t sleep inside my shell. Would like to have a chapbook, but know that’s insane.
8. Stop apologizing for everything.
9. Find a band I actually love and can be passionate about locally. I misssssss going to shows! I miss that aspect of my life being so immense. Easily achieved.
10. Again, don’t look back. Don’t let the world tell me I’m not allowed to do whatever the heck I want to do. Remember that if you ever wake up in the morning and you’re not exactly where you want to be, stop whatever you’re doing and get there. Let the divinity in your heart speak to you, guide you, move you to where you need to be. Don’t be afraid to move forward, even if nobody else will be running after you. Say Yes. And as cheesy and important as it’s always been--- follow your heart; that’s the only thing that’s real.
That’s it. For now.

Today is a day of beauty, the anniversary of one of the most important days of my life. I am endlessly grateful for the opportunity to have had such a grand adventure and aware of my blessings today, even more than any other day. I can't possibly have created a more incredible life for my own self, and I could not ask for more.

Thank you, Georgia, for raising me. And thank you, California, for taking me in.

No turning back.

I've really got to clean my room. Like... right now.

I'm sitting on my bed, still in the same clothes I wore to work (including my boots... wtf?), after over 4 hours of making Swedish meatballs to bring to work (for fun) tomorrow. I put together the gifts for my girls, listened to Head and the Heart pandora, and rolled, rolled, rolled those meatballs. Something about how simple this was caused me to just crack up alone in my kitchen. This is becoming more frequent in my life- this absurd happy laughter in the middle of nothingness. It's a really good feeling.

My roommate and her friend joined me in the kitchen and baked cookies (from scratch cooking is super common in our happy home) -- something about this is all I ever wanted from California, all I ever needed.

When 2011 happened, my only "resolution" was more of a goal... and this was to not look back, to not turn around - in the sense of not returning to Georgia and also not returning to whoever I was before. I needed to go away for real and become this girl, the one I am now, the one I am so happy to be. I live in a beautiful old Victorian with a real backyard. A cat lives here. My sofa bed was delivered today... we have curtains now and two mini Christmas trees. Something about this is more ideal than I could have created for myself in my mind. I feel like even if I don't have a million people to spend time with and I'm not writing for a living and I'm not doing all these things I might have planned for myself, I'm doing exactly what I want to be doing, and I'm doing it because I want to.

That's pretty cool.

Sleepy Mix

This is the list of songs on my sleepy mix. Obvies, I listen to it at night on lowest volume and let it just sing me to sleep.

1. Our House - Crosby, Still, Nash, & Young
2. It's All In Your Mind - Beck
3. Fade into Me - Mazzy Star
4. Unknown Legend - Neil Young
5. Suzanne - Leonard Cohen
6. toolong - Devin O Guin
7. '81 - Joanna Newsom
8. Blood Bank - Bon Iver
9 & 10 - Have you Forgotten? Red House Painters - Vanilla Sky & Regular Acoustic-y version
11. Take it with Me - Tom Waits

I think in 2012, I will delete this entire thing and start listening to an entirely new list. Cliche and boring as it is, I need something else now.

Do you know what I mean?

This time last year...

This is when these kinds of things start... I go back and reread all my journals from the end of the last year, think about how drastically similar one December seems from the last... everything between is what was so wild. Today, I did that. I looked back. I looked back and I didn't miss any of it, not for a second. I realize how much bigger I am now, how much more on my own I am. It's all so good. Let me get to the point.

Last year on Christmas night, I drove for hours in the random Georgia snow just to see Bryan. It was some kind of romantic feeling I had to follow, that we both needed... just to see each other on Christmas since we were actually in the same state. THE ONE TIME it snows on Christmas in Georgia! Another obstacle, another challenge, another chance to prove to the universe and anyone watching that nothing could stand in our way. I think when I finally got there, we just watched Real World and hung out. Nothing spectacular. But it was, somehow. I gave him Tom Waits Rain Dogs on vinyl... it was, to this day, I think, the most intense gift I've ever given someone. I can't tell you why. I can only tell you. Something about that drive, about that panic, about the worry and fear of driving through pitch black whiteness and coming to a version of home was a feeling I will never try to forget, would never want to. Thinking back on it, I'm proud to have this memory, to remember that at that moment in time, there was a grand us worth chasing. The last few days of my Georgia life were scary and confusing in some ways, but I remember after Christmas night, I felt really secure in taking that really long drive with Bryan across the US.

The thing is, when I started talking to Bryan, I didn't expect two years. I didn't expect anything. I just tried to let it happen. I just tried to hold fast to the love that I was feeling and not expect things would go some way or another. And then I ended up here in California and it was so good for a while--- actually we worried because we didn't fight for literal months. And then, I don't know... I moved and made choices and it was just over in the silence. And it was okay, too. Because with each great love, comes a new way of learning to love. I wouldn't change anything...

Where I am right now, reflecting back on the last year is difficult as he is such a big part of it, but I have to look at my own life and my own self in this moment... because even if he was by my side for the better part of it, I still did it on my own. And none of this because I graduated college or moved away from home or happen to be in the right place at the right time--- but because of who I am. Looking back on last December, and all that I faced both with Bryan and on my own in between, I'm amazed, actually, that I am where I am. Recent events, I think, have really set me free, allowed me to remember that I don't need to do anything, impress anyone, live up to anything because who I am essentially is enough for what I'm meant for, whatever that is.

I'm not trying to be profound or make things mean anything... I'm just saying that I did everything I could for a love that wasn't supposed to last because it was all part of a perfect order... I don't know if any of this makes sense to anyone else. But I don't write for other people. I write because I know no other way, because when my brain is too full, I start losing my mind.

Anyway, bring it on, 2012. Show me what you've got.

Today did hurt.

But I feel better.

Life's too short to even care at all..

The truth is, well. I don't know what the truth is. All I know is that I need to stop apologizing so much for doing what I want- stop apologizing for doing the right thing, saying the right thing, trying new things, or following my heart. I need to stop apologizing for being considerate or for being selfish or for being too critical. I've spent my whole life apologizing for being who I am, even though I don't actually in my heart of hearts care if anybody understands who that is.

My body folded open against the wall and the heater, sprawled out pathetically because I knew what I was about to know, I was out of everything. I'm not in this anymore. With too much food in my stomach and nothing left in my heart, all I could give you were tears. There is so sadness. I just can't fall apart with you anymore. I need to do it on my own.

Sometimes, meeting new people causes me to feel terribly depressed.

All the Words I've Never Understood...

Would like to clean up my room, Mary Poppins Style, right now. A wiggly nose and a nod and everything in its place--- plus curtains. Kind of seriously wishing I had a bed, but also kind of seriously knowing it's not as important to me as it should be and I know I will buy fabric for my abandoned wooden frame before I buy a bed. A mattress, maybe. A bed... doubtful.

Instead, I'm playing the same 4 songs on repeat and reading Lolita. Bam.

And here the freedom has been officiated, granted: do whatever you want.

When I use the word "do," I mean not only activate, a physical going... I mean the whole thing. I mean do think and do feel and do allow all of those things you have restricted of self or others in relation to you.

Even with you, I feel the freedoms between myself and everything else right now. It's just like before, though, that the freedom grants my happiness but doesn't mean anything's changed. I worry sometimes so much about what will happen when it does. Will this have ended yet?

I can't explain what I mean, only that I mean it with all my heart.

I worry every day over a million things but I never worry about the world ending.

Inspired.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9MoCfC68WV8

Whenever the book I write becomes, it will be because of this song.

Still working on figuring out a man voice, how to write like a dude.

Stay tuned.

All you have to do is remember to look up!

I cry a lot when I write, too.

I try not to cry in the car considering it's probably more dangerous to drive with cloudy eyes in an overly emotional state than just normal, regular driving. However, I find myself crying in my car more than anywhere else. Just now, taking the long way home from the laundromat across the street, I put in some random blank cd and skipped until I found a tune that might move me. And then those stupid lyrics that caused a stupid fight and showed me how stupid I was a million times over... just hearing them and being alone and knowing that this pattern's got to stop real soon... I just started crying. I hate the way I feel sometimes.

"Please tell me you need me."

I've never wanted to hold onto somebody this way before. I don't even really want to now. I don't know how to separate what we had from what we have, where the friendship line goes or what I want. I just want to be able to listen to this song and know it's not true anymore. I just want to be able to listen to songs and not be able to feel exact moments all over again sometimes- hah! The blessing and curse of a really fucking great song. I don't mean just with you, but with all of you... all the songs I can think of and be back in that place. Right now, I'm being a drama queen though, and I need to pretend that I hate all of these songs that remind me.

I know it's already gone, and I don't want it back. I think it's more than this, more like: I wish I knew how to gravitate romantically towards somebody who will really love me, and not just what I stand for in their lives. When I hear this song, I realize I did need you. But I don't need you this way anymore. I don't know how I could lose you, either, though. Do you know what I mean?

Plain and simple, and as usual, I have no clue what I'm doing.

yada yada good time blah blah

What a marvelous weekend of awakening and rebirth!

I think an epic portion of what makes the world such a miraculous place is that it is different every single moment of every day- nothing is ever the same as we remember it, just exactly- and even if it seems that way, we are never the same moment to moment: new skin and new air in our lungs, new freckles, wrinkles, whatever age mark you may be blessed with. Specifically to this weekend, a dear old friend of mine and his closest friend came to visit California, and allowed me to be included in their journey by staying at my apartment! Lucky me! :) What I realized as we went to breakfast and sat in my living room and walked to the car and shuffled through Campbell is how everything felt like this was it- the first time! I'd never been here before in THIS way, with these people, having these conversations or watching these clouds roll by. Nothing more amazing to me than simple and effortless human connection. Something of a miracle, this life. Something even larger is how lucky we are to have anybody to share it with, to share us with.

I listened as the boys entertained me with their goals, their dreams, all that they know they are chasing and guarantee to get. All I could do was feel so excited to be interacting with anyone so impassioned as desperate for that completely consuming chaos that I live for. So good to be around such energy. After such a sad goodbye-or see ya later- I ended up having THE best two days of work, just flooded with so many good feelings with my Girls and happiness to be the person I am in this world, doing whatever the hell it is that I do every day.

Let the good times roll.

I don't always like myself. But I really freakin love my life.

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times:

Laundry Day.

drft.

I just wonder who taught you how to love, and who it was that forgot to tell you that this part, this doesn't work, is the difference between a puzzle and a mess, is the moment between a gently worn heart and a broken neck. I just wonder who it was that taught you that this part is okay, that this is how to handle those who let you love them, after you're done.

And I remember who it was that taught me that this is how to take it, that this is how to keep saying yes even if it makes your face cringe, get all ugly with wrinkles, a foreshadowing of what's to come years down the line when you will have said yes to one thousand too many, when you will be waking alone in a bed alone, wishing somebody in the world would keep you up with his snoring, or mumbling, whatever noise keeps him from being the perfect man, but keeps him yours.

I remember when you taught me how to cry myself to sleep, reminded me I deserved it. I remember who it was that taught me how to love, and I remember you, whispering sweet "you're nothings," reminding me that if given the chance, only take.

And still, I feel best when:

My hair is in a dirty, messy bun, yesterday's makeup, grass between my toes and skinny jeans hugging my butt. I like when it's cold enough to wear a hoodie, but the sun warms me enough sitting in this grassy spot so I can stick it under my head. White t-shirt, v-neck. I put the book up above my head blocking the light just from my eyes... keeping the words flowing in front of my eyes and through my brain, creating while ingesting. When I get tired of holding the book up, I cock my head sideways, look at the grass or trees, all the details swimming together, loving the wind. Let me rock you. All I can think about is how good it feels. All I can think about is sunlight and words... and warmth.

This is when I write the most. When I'm alone and warm, thinking of nothing. That's when it come my way.

I wonder if it's normal to feel okay with just not doing a whole lot.

When someone asks me what I'm doing, whether they mean specifically later on with the intention that maybe we should perhaps do something or nothing but either way together or even just alone all by myself or if they mean on a grander scale in terms of life plans, I want to say that this is my least favorite question, because I'm just doing it. I don't know what that even means, or how anyone came up with this question... why do I have to have intentions for all the moments of my life? Am I going to be a better person if I respond with a detailed agenda or my exact five year plan? That's not who I am. I think it's OKAY to be that person, obviously. But I can't live that way.

Let's get one thing straight here: I want to do things. I do do things. I do things all the time. Right now I am listening to Ryan Adams while listening to passing cars and wind sounds, understanding the light in the corner of my eye, typing, also listening to the slapping keys because I'm aware I am currently typing fast... I'm spell checkin', wondering why you haven't answered my text, praying consciously about the house I want to live in, worrying about the mess all over my floor that my employees will see tomorrow... whatever. I'm also breathing while I do these things. Somehow. Beating, moving, motioning, whether I like it or not. Why isn't this enough? Why do I have to be doing things? The truth is, there are things I want to do. But I don't want to talk about them and I don't want to make it my whole life to head toward a huge big disappointment. Another truth of my life is that I don't feel I have a career path or that I want to ever be married or be a mother or any of those traditional style goals... so when people ask me what I'm DOING, I want to tell them they wouldn't be interested, that they wouldn't understand... that I'm not sure they would believe me if I gave them my truth. I just want to feel like I'm staying true to my own self, not the self anyone else would necessary ask of me.

What do I want? I just want to be there with you when the world cracks.

SNAP.

I read and reread all these words and wonder who it is I'm missing.

I will never understand anyone. Maybe that's what I need to accept. And get the heck over it.

Uncharacteristically, I returned a phone call exactly when I said I would- to a dear friend I met and grew to know during my study abroad trip in Germany. We don't talk often, and didn't even hang out that much in Germany... but somehow we've always been connected on a deep, mystical sort of level, and I've always appreciated how raw she is with the world, how she just fights and fights... I don't know. I feel like I am always letting the world overcome me, happen to me. I feel like she is the kind of human who happens to the world. Admirable.

Last night when I returned her phone call, I told her things I haven't said out loud to anyone in my entire life... things I didn't know I could express to anyone else. And she just listened and knew, talked and understood. Two and a half hours passed and I was hungry and had to pee so bad and still couldn't let myself give her excuses to hang up the phone because I needed to hear her talk as much as she needed me to listen. I needed somebody to put it all away for once, to fall apart, to let me catch them. Not even like a this-is-how-I'm-feeling conversation... but this-is-who-i-am-and-what-am-i-to-do-with-it thing. Talking about all the things I think about alone all day every day. I don't feel any different based on this conversation, just maybe more safe and less alone. I feel like the most important thing, though, is that during that conversation, that was all that was happening for me--- that was where I was, this was what I was doing. I love Meaghan Elam for reminding me how to love the conversation more than fear humanity. It was so beautiful to connect in this way and so beautiful to be reminded that it's all so easy after all, just requires a little bit of pushing... and encouragement.

The truth is, when I get home every day, I want to tell somebody what the sky looked like on the way home, how the elevator smells like laundry, how I feel about Henry Miller and Anais Nin. I want to ask anyone how they felt the first time they remembered being naked in front of someone else, if they've ever felt the sunshine inside of someone else, if they remember how to read a mind. I want to break down all the walls, to scratch everything til it rips. I just want to have someone to fumble with again, like how we all did before, like how we still do for moments when we forget how scared we are. Like how Austin and I did on our way to Carrollton, fumbling together in growing up... Like how Kristyn and I still don't know how to be apart.... like how my family has been doing for my whole life... I just want to take it to the next level, to say out loud more often... "aren't we just fumbling?" I want to live in a little house where I can come home every day and say stimulate me... tell me something new, teach me how to live again, remind me why I bother.

I wonder sometimes if I told you the truth...

#thelittlethings

First draft, worst draft... posting it helps me critique it for myself... sorry it's so terrible. haha

For Bryan

We loved in a frenzy, no time taken for polite kisses or patient

goodbyes; miss yous and soon enoughs were the language

we knew best. That, and the one of the body, the one that sung

your name when the months would pass without kisses,

on my end, commitment, on yours. I stayed true

while you stayed busy, caught in the midst of California dreaming

and the boredom of the real world. I woke up to you, without you,

on repeat, humming like the songs I’d help you write, like the birds

we tried to imitate, like the body after panic. Humming myself

to sleep was the pattern when you were gone and I wasn’t sure if God

was listening. Without you, flirting gets old before I meet anyone

new. Because I can only ever smile, say I’m flattered, and wonder

when the day will come that you remember that it is rude to eat

with elbows on the table.

Shake it out, shake it out!

And it's hard to dance with the devil on your back, so shake 'im out!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WbN0nX61rIs

I happily welcome October! Though I had bigger plans for this morning, I pleasantly hung out with new Ryan Adams music tapping my feet and laying on my bed. What I wanted doesn't matter so much now... what I had planned for my life doesn't exist today. What is happening is that I'm alone in my room with just this music and the sound of wind, the big white walls, and the oxygen to fill my lungs. And, of course, the mess on the floor.

This has always been my favorite month. Partially because Kristyn's birthday is in October and partially because everything good happens this month... the pumpkins and best weather, scarves and shorts worn at the same time, new music from country-alt singers. Fabulous. Normally, I am surrounded by lots of people doing so many activities... but this year that might not be so much the case. But what is happening is that I am breathing, creating, regenerating, and relearning how to be unstoppable. Relearning my own miracle of being.

I've been doing a lot of crying-myself-to-sleep mixed with praying-myself-to-sleep lately... a combination which isn't the most glamorous... but it helps me empty all of this out before I sleep. So I can really rest, I think. That was last night. And now it's this morning. And I don't feel like crying. Waking up wasn't hard. I'm not in the mood for a panic attack or a headache. I just feel like doing what I'm doing, listening to Ryan Adams and writing in my blog. Knowing that Kristyn will read it. Knowing that not many other people do. But that's all. Today I woke up and remembered myself. I have no real intentions for the rest of the month--- only to remind myself that I am loved, that I can love, and that I don't have to be afraid of the world just because I'm in it alone.

I woke up this morning finally ready to be myself again. I can't tell anyone what this means, but I think I know for myself.

All I know is that my name is Kate Gervais. All I know how to do is try.

All these things you seek... your opportunities are flooding your days. Who are you not to take them?

All I'm saying is if you're looking for balance, all you had to do was say hello.

So much beauty in every inch.

...That's all.

Adventures along the Coast...

Speaking of today, one of my work girls and I drove down to Monterey to visit the aquarium! So cool. There was so much to see and I think we only walked for like a mile outside the aquarium. Something so incredible about the Pacific... completely breathtaking every time. I love the west coast in a very real way. It was nice to get out and go away and turn off my phone.

Some highlights include...

an unreal amount of sea lions... had to be hundreds. super stank though.

so scary! a real wave...

19,000 sardines in the great white shark tank.

jellies

Lil Cosmo, my homie.

Randos from Santa Cruz.

No matter how many times I just walk along the beach encrusted sidewalks of Santa Cruz and go see the barking sea lions, I never get tired of this place. I want to explore and explore and explore it, take the sidewalks further... splash my feet in the Pacific. It's just a place I feel comfortable and alive and happy and there's so much to do without having to do anything. Maybe someday I'll be rich and can live here for a summer, like I dreamed last year.

These are just some pics from when I took Cara-Judy. I'm trying to step back from facebook... the creepy factor is out of control. So here I am with a classic pica-post. Hah!

Sea Lion

friendship.

"I thought you would like them because they're rainbow colors."

My feel-better flowers from Aundrea at work.

:)

Now that I've said what I meant, I'm moving on.

And I can't stand to see you be a bad man...

The days pass and I feel the loneliness swell. Hold: I do not mean this tragically, only truthfully. When I say loneliness, I mean Joni-lonely, profound loneliness, a moment removed from reality, watching watching watching myself critically and chaotically. Where have I gone in this picture? Here and not always... poetic loneliness. And I am grateful.

When I wake up, I miss Bryan. I want to tell him, first thing, that I miss him. But then I take a moment to pray, to ask for healing, to ask for some kind of timeline. And then I get out of my bed and brush my teeth and feel the quiet speak to me, feel it press my shoulders together to remind me that it's not supposed to be fair, and I don't get the answers before finishing the test, all the millions of mixed metaphors and connections and allusions that help me get through the day. I move around, turn my records on, brush my hair (sometimes), and do my damn thing. I watch the sky while rolling through traffic and keep considering, keep thinking, keep hoping, and then taking most of it back. All we can do is... do stuff, I guess. I wake up and I do things and I remember how easy this is for you and I just tell myself that for the first time ever I am heartbroken from romantic love in a very real, adult, and miserable way and that there is no shame in this truth. God bless me for knowing it's okay to feel miserable, for as long as it takes. I'm okay, really. The only outlet I really have in this department are this blog and my stuffed animals. Hah! Anyway... I'm still alive. Isn't that the real point of this? Maybe?

I drove into the seemingly perpetual California sunset the other day after work to see Colour Revolt perform, and I went, like I do, on my own. I took the drive and I stood there and I danced and I sang out and all of this alone. And in the middle of A New Family, I started laughing aloud. Because I am completely alone! Can you believe that? It's not a sad thing and it's not a forever thing. But for now, I pay my own bills and live on my own and do my own thing without any nearby friends or family or loved ones except for those (beautiful, amazing girls) I work with. I was at this concert alone! It's ridiculous! So alone! And okay. Really okay. Would I prefer to be alone the way I am? Not a freaking chance... it's misery! But I take a lot of joy in this and I'm really proud of myself for being able to embrace my sadness without drowning in it. I really do think I've grown up.

What a strange world this is...

"If you forget my love,

I'll try to remind you.

I'll stay by you,

when it don't come easy."

Maybe waking up isn't easy either...

Since I moved to California, I feel as if I have been a mix of endlessly exhausted and excessively grateful. I love being here, love it! But so often I find myself not having a moment to think... going from 7 days a week to this job which I always have something to take care of on my day off, too. I have been a crappy friend since moving to San Jose because I keep buying cards and not sending them, wanting to answer the texts I get while working but forgetting about them from being so tired, wanting to just be able to be a friend and I feel myself failing. But this is growing up. That's not an excuse; it's a tragedy. I am happy to be here. So happy. I love my job and I can't believe how fortunate I am sometimes. And then I wonder how much time will pass before I feel at home, before I feel adjusted, before I can give directions in California and make friends and do anything other than work and take an hours stroll around Target, where I don't have service, so I can ignore all the calls for just a moment, and just be by myself, around a bunch of other people.

I wonder, too, how much time has to pass before I stop wanting to text you every morning... before you're my first or even second thought. I wonder when I want it all to be. I feel like I've never been through something like this before. I just don't know really. I feel so nervous lately. I feel relief, but also sadness.

But, as always, this too shall pass...

Cuz' breaking up is hard to do...

The hardest part about this is that it was right... that neither of us are mad and that we both knew the time had come. But we're still not done somehow, too... just that I'm not ready to not kiss you next time I see you or to not see you again for an undefined time period. I know that this is what has to happen.... the silence told us everything. It just feels unfair, so sudden, though it's been happening for months, I guess. The hardest part of knowing is that this is still a process, a slow unraveling. There's nothing to do but be patient, and calm, and remember that this is the best thing.

Why is being a grown up such a pain in the butt?

Just sitting here watching Ryan Adams videos on youtube for like 2 hours wondering how on earth anyone can possibly be so prolific.... crazy.

The better I am at work, the worse I am in my personal life... the less control I feel I have.

Um, adult much?

Gross.

I'm listening to Joni Mitchell pandora station and sitting on my new bedding in my big, dim room in San Jose. Two days ago, I drove with Bryan into San Francisco from here and was astonished by the beauty, the wonder of the California landscape. The cities, gorgeous in their own right, are full of magic, miracle, energy, exuberance... at least from what I've gathered. And then you take a different road and see these rolling hills and faded colors, so pure and so natural, something to write home about.

Sometimes I feel so sad... even embarrassed... to be working retail. It's a weird feeling but I think because of school I just feel like I'm not living up to my potential or something.... but the truth in my heart is that I can't imagine being more pleased really. I get to play dress up and talk to different people every day, inspire my coworkers with a positive attitude and seemingly never-fading energy, and it feels like I am living up to my own standards, which is something I feel I've never done. And I'm on salary! I am being blonde and happy and colorful and it is beautiful to me, more beautiful to me than anything else, is that I've overcome that feeling of not being good enough, even if it's only for a few hours when I'm dancing around Jest Jewels and singing with the girls. I know that I could be writing a book or I could be tutoring little kids or I could be doing something "grand" but I can't shake the feeling that I'm doing what I need to be doing exactly in the place I'm meant to be.

I miss you, though.

<3

So many really good, positive happenings in my life lately. Only sort of problem with progress is that it means I am constantly going through a list of to-do's! Every day a million things to take care of, lots of phone calls to make, things to pick up, and yet I still feel like I never have a chance to talk to my friends and family back east. I do certainly feel blessed, so much so, for my new position at work and how phenomenally well it is going. The adjustment was so hard at first, and the responsibility of management is... INTENSE. But I am doing my best with as much enthusiasm as possible, and I think the success is showing in morale and numbers! We are doing so well on the business side of things and, most importantly to me, the girls are coming to work smiling and believing they can make the goals and it just feels right.

Bryan and I have developed a pretty sturdy system of seeing one another often enough but it still makes me sad sometimes to know he is an hour away, not just a mile. Our one year anniversary of officialness is coming up August 4th... gotta think of something good! As the queen of gift-giving, I am struggling lately being creative and it BLOWS! I need to start making a list of random ideas to perpetuate this kind of thinking. Heh... I'm off topic.

So new goals... pay off $500 a month of student loans (I'm already almost at $1000 paid off! OMG! Still so much to go but it feels good to have made a dent!) with the potential help of my mom (I'm thinking $350 from me, $150 from her) and NOT TAKING MONEY OUT OF MY SAVINGS unless for rent and unless it's already allocated in my budget!!!!!!!

:)

Stay tuned.

I would make this whole world spin around just to see you again.

I'm packing up this room... what feels like at least the tenth time I've done this in two years. Truthfully, that's no exaggeration, but I don't want to think about how many times I've left a room behind... all the rooms... my campus quad room, home room, spain room, germany room, sun room, regular cunningham room, my home room again, and again, and again. As much as I feel like it's such the drag to be running up and down the staircases from room to car, I feel impressed with the amount of stuff I've resisted accumulating in the 5 months I've lived here. I can see myself progressing, growing up, growing into someone who needs less... I just hope I have not stopped giving. Idk... It feels GREAT to be finally harnessing this position, really feeling it and knowing I'm going to do well. It's hard, too, though, because as much as all I want to focus on is positive, I am finding myself stumbling upon various negative energies just like my brakes breaking and the tifts with those I hold dear and the awkward conversations and just the fumbling mess that is my life in motion. But I have to embrace all the goodness, the Godness, and myself.

I have been having hard days but I feel that I am done focusing on that for now. I want to just embrace positivity and opportunity, the sunshine, the bubbles, all those very Kate Alice things. I know this is something I can do, or it wouldn't have been offered to me and my path. Taking the hard moments and knowing I am bigger and more prepared because of them. Going to have such the blast with my newbie sidekick and going to love the life that is happening within and without me. Make a list of what you love and make sure you're on it.

xo.

I feel like the more I pray to make it through my days without crying, the harder this seems to be. I wonder if maybe I'm speaking backwards.

I am truly so happy and so proud of myself. And I am also completely miserable.

Right now, I feel like I need to just embrace this dark time. Just for now.

Hold on, there's a hole in my heart.

I am sorting my books into different bags... novels, non-fiction, the journals of others, the journals of my own... and some of your letters fell out into my lap. As I read through sentences from the beginning, nearing on two years now, I feel your sadness too much. I feel you too much. I just wish this were easier.

Two years ago, though, from today, I didn't know what I was doing. Andy and I broke up. I was falling in love with Ryan. I was falling in love with myself. I was Zorbing, preparing for Spain, meeting Picasso and St. Teresa, giving myself a chance. I was in love with my friends, obsessed with the sun and its setting ways. I was laughing in bathtubs and working at Cookie Co and learning how to love my family as friends, learning to make my own definitions. I was entranced by how my life was moving and I was never missing a beat. It was a spiritual time in life, and all the while I was preparing to meet you-- and I just didn't know it yet.

As much as that was two years ago, that is happening now, as it's all within me, always happening, always perpetuating the next meeting, the next moment, helping all of the now happen and I am all too aware of the connections. It's frightening to see how delicately the pieces need one another, you know? But as I sort through your words from what we dub The Beginning of sorts, I feel tears welling up because I remember how hard it was on my end, to know I would be in love with you, to know you would be far away. And because I don't want you to think that just because we won't be a mile apart again that we would be regressing. We can't. You know? We can only move forward or fall apart. I just need you to know that I'm here. And I need you to be, if only for a moment, happy with me, beside me, letting me know that maybe you are proud of me. Because you are so much apart of this... so much apart of me. And I feel like if you aren't proud of me, I won't make it to feeling like this is something I deserve. But I know this is something I deserve.

Today I told you I need you because this is true. I told you because you deserve to know.

I told them, as I always do, yes.

"No healer has ever healed without having healed himself first. No believer has ever believed as strongly without first testing his beliefs. And no lover has truly loved without having loved another and let go.

I’m not afraid to let go anymore. If it looks to others like I did something wrong, made bad choices, acted selfishly, or fearful, then so what. I can say, to you I am wrong. I am selfish. etc. Big deal. Stick and stones may break my bones but I choose not to give those thoughts a home. When I am sad I will simply be grateful for the sadness as it is a gift, a miracle in fact, to experience this powerful emotion, trusting the pendulum swings both ways; embracing all of life in it's awkward perfection."

-Jason Mraz

Please believe in me.

It's already hard enough...

I was trying to write a story, but I think I started writing a poem. And I'm calling it Beginning a Story. Stay tuned....

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened. I don't believe you are lacking awareness of the presence if you wonder "what if?" now and then; it is about trying to understand a different path, even if it not the one you chose in the end.

Something about Joanna Newsom that I love is how she continuously grows on me. The more I listen to a song, the more I connect with it and feel it in my own life. Really great poetry going on there.

I feel weird knowing so many of my dearest friends are in graduation mode now... I wonder where they will go in the coming months and how their lives will pan out and if it will continue to make me worry about my own. I'm really excited for them, though, because a great sense of pride and relief come with that big walk. Very strange times, indeed.

Today, I miss Spain. I miss being in Spain, being who I was then, regularly, even daily. But today it was almost heartwrenching, just because I was invited to talk about it and it was painful because I could barely contain myself from exploding with just how much I love that I experienced that country, that summer, with those gorgeous and amazing people, learning all that I did.

More on that later.

I was told today that Jack London wrote 1000 words a day. He died in his 30s or something, very young. So prolific. I've written every day in May, as it was my goal, hoping to come up with anything.... so far, not much. But I feel a little bit more myself.

GOING TO MAKE CORN ON THE COB WITH BB SEE YA!

Thank God for this solitude.

Some days, I want to be deeply alone. Maybe not entire days, but definitely there are moments. There is an exhaustion in so much loving, when you spend your days loving the people that you don't know, being in love with all of those you do, feeling the miracle of a kind stranger, reaching deeply for the kindness in those who are more obviously unkind... all this reaching... sometimes, days and days consumed of this life.... it leads to moments like these where I value the songs and the silence between them, the quiet of my little room, the sweetness in the setting sun and the barely there of the family just outside my door. I know I am well loved, and I am grateful for the company, for the constant awareness of the good motion between all of us, for being the kind of person who appreciates others deeply. But sometimes, I love being alone so much that it frightens me. These are the moments I am reminded, not only of being human, but of being an artist. Essentially conflicted, delicately constructed.

Workin on my steez...

Things I want to make more time for in my life:

-Food blog/cooking! I love working with the food blog, keeping up with the foods I make. Lately, though, I have been in a really bad place emotionally and it inhibits my creative energy. Can you relate? It's really challenging, but I know that setting goals helps develop those creative energies and the food blog can be a really helpful coping mechanism for me in this way. Very exciting to think about! Hard at the same time because it means accepting my struggle as affecting the whole of me. Working on this. I want to inspire others to come up with different fun foods, and remember how beautiful it can be to share a meal with others. And to help people stop being so scared of food. Recipes are just guidelines, in my opinion.

-Sewing ... love it. LOVE IT. Make zero time for it. Need to work on thiiiis.

-Couponing. I'm poor. It would help.

-Walks... I do this a lot, but would like to do it more. Warm weather would help.

-Reading

-Writing poetry

-Music. I don't listen to a whole lot of different stuff lately because I just can't find much new stuff that I love, so I don't want to listen to it. I want music that calms my bones, but also some that gives me a reason to pep up in the mornings. Dig? Wishin' for mixes.

Sharing goals can be good. Hooray.

Outrageously difficult...

to not feel pressured to compete with the pace of anyone else's life. Seeing engagement pictures, counting the comments of congratulations to grad school acceptances, hearing about my friends or even just facebook "friends" getting real jobs... why should I feel like I'm missing out on something if I'm doing my best... against my own standards? This begging inadequacy I've always felt within myself won't diminish over time... it is something I must continuously work toward triumphing in all the little ways throughout the days of my life. It's true that I'm not doing anything especially important right now in my life, I think, but I am taking a much needed breather in some ways, removing myself from certain unhealthy pressures I felt back home, and trying to love every day and appreciate the little things. I wish I had more to show for it, I guess is all. I have a lot of trouble making excuses when people ask why I moved here, what I'm doing here... the truth is I work two jobs and hang out with my boyfriend and scribble unfinished poetry on the back of grocery receipts and do my best to engage in positive interactions daily. That's enough for now. I think it's good to have goals, but it's good to remember they don't have to meet anyone else's. You have your own mind, your own path, your own individualized sensibilities. Follow that.

In case you are wondering...

there are a lot of unhappy times, too.

I'll see you on the dark side of the moon...

This is a weird post for me to write, because while I even think about writing it, I think about how weird this similarity is and how I kind of don't want to talk about this because this is something so dear to me, so close to my heart. Really, it is one of my Secrets. And it is good to keep those to yourself... to always have a few. But I have gotten a lot of apologies lately from friends saying "sorry for being so depressing" (don't apologize for feeling your feelings!) and it makes me feel like even though I am glad to have those things shared with me and think it's important to sit with those experiences and feelings, I want to share something that makes me cry remembering, for a good reason, for happy reasons. And today being the 1 year, 7 month a versary of knowing Bryan Wilson, I thought it would be appropriate to share today.

Two Pink Floyd songs make me cry. Wish You Were Here and Brain Damage. Both of these songs have been played to me from different guys, very important and dear to how my life has gone and is going. Both times these songs have been played in my presence, I've bawled. Completely, outrageously, painfully, beautifully. These are the happiest tears I can remember crying in my entire life, and it's weird to me that both relate to these Pink Floyd songs when I barely listen to Pink Floyd on my own. Anyway...

When I was in high school, my boyfriend at the time played me Wish You Were Here the night before the first time I went to Wisconsin. Him being a pretty shy person, and both of us being pretty secretive, this was a pretty monumental moment, him opening up and sharing his voice with me. I'm addicted to the darkness, to loving all of everyone, to experiencing that inner most-ness of anyone I care about. That was him letting me in. I don't listen to this song now, because that chapter of my life is one I don't find necessary to visit so often these days. When I heard the chords sometimes I still get teary because I just remember feeling somebody wanting me to know them. That relationship helped shape me into who I am today and how I relate to others. For some reason, this time sticks out as sort of the precise image of our overall relationship--- the sort of melancholy of the lyrics, the desperation of the chords, the brokenness of his voice through quiet masculine tears... and the sweetness, too. It's good to remember.

Last semester, during one of Bryan's visits, he played Brain Damage for me in the living room of my trashy Cunningham home. I'm pretty sure he wasn't playing "for me" (air quotes are so tacky but convey the point, so alas), but the notion of him playing in front of me, the boy behind the electronics, just a guitar and the most soothing voice I've encountered... to see him so soft in front of me... this tender moment just moved me. I watched his fingers graze the guitar strings and felt them on my arms, felt them wrapped around me and let the tears cover my cheeks. His voice danced with the notes, reminding me of this person I know so deeply... I thought of the time we held hands through the trails at West Georgia and he told me His Story, The Story everyone saw happening but not a whole lot of people really know. His voice calling to the lunatics on the grass just made me hear him, just him, desperate and unapologetic and lovely. I remembered how I knew I loved him when he told me that story, and how I could feel myself loving him as the words poured out from his lips, as the guitar sang the rhythm. His willingness to let me in always breaks my heart, even still, because it's some kind of miracle for us as humans to show ourselves to somebody else, but Bryan does this to me all the time. I love remembering these quiet moments with him, the times with the most tears, because that is what kept us both calling, writing, being.

It's wild to me how these patterns show themselves through our lives, relationships... how these details come back, how those songs with their abstract lyrics are so weirdly concretely relative to our lives/situation. It's incredible and fantastic to me that I can see these moments still, that I can feel the cold driveway or the hot living room, hear their voices in my whole body, just so much beauty in the softness of a human being. There's no good reason for sharing this, and I didn't do either memory any justice, but it's good to reflect, to sit with these experiences and just do nothing but remember and feel- and share. I'm just really glad to be in this room in Albany, California right now thinking about knowing the people I have and do, doing nothing but simple thinking, remembering, loving.

And now, I hope to get sushi and laugh with my rockstar boyfriend and worry about money and feel just all right.

If you read this, thank you. It makes me feel a little bit less alone, just, so you know.

KIM ADDONIZIO AND YELLOW HIGH HEELS.

Today is a VERY important day! A day for all days! My very favorite poet, beyond my heartsong Walt Whitman, is reading publicly in Berkeley tonight! Hopefully I can get out of work, quick and clean, find a perfect spot, and hear her voice resonate in my brain in harmony with that of her mouth. What an entirely grand day! It was supposed to rain today, too, but I woke up to only sunshine. Hoorah!

There is so much I need to do for this conference and also just in general for my life; one of these aforementioned things would be sleep, but I find myself more comforted by the clicks of the keyboard's rhythm than the squish of my pillow. I don't have much to say but there is something...

I feel desperately alone today. I don't feel lonely, I don't think, and I don't feel confused. I feel very solidly alone. I feel like last night I realized how alone I feel in general, how I feel generally unaccepted and this feels like a running pattern throughout my time on earth. It's just been excessively frustrating lately to be in a place where everything and everyone are new, and I have to keep bumping my head into everything with the awareness of my solitude. This is not so much a problem as it is a painful sort of thing we all have to work out-- perhaps not feeling unaccepted but just the exhaustion of recognizing that each of us puts out at least one thing more than they can ever get back. It all comes back somehow, in some form, because the universe demands balance. But when I can't fall asleep and I hate waking up, I can't help but be exhausted by this whole enterprise. I feel like there's nothing I can do right. It's so weird how no matter how old I get or how much the happenings of my life change, I find myself experiencing such similar patterns, emotional responses, and wondering why the heck I can't just prevent it. But the truth is, we give these things because we know people need us, need the way we love or think or push them. We give because we possibly can, and there is a sense, I believe, of duty in this. I just get scared sometimes when I feel the way I've always felt that I'll end up reacting in a way I've taught myself not to.

This is all very vague and very uncomfortable because it's 1am and I'm not sure who I'm supposed to talk to. When the world is sleeping, it's a lot harder to figure out who you're supposed to talk to. And when you're constantly searching for excuses not to express yourself, this terrible nightmare is a really twisted kind of blessing.

Point is, I'm going away this weekend and I'm going to file folder my brain until I have a better, more clear sense of direction. It is so very hard to say exactly what you mean. And even if you can, what's the point?

All day long, through the most intense rain, the sun was insistent upon shining, leading me to come home to a gorgeous rainbow outside my front door. And, on top of that, I'm heading to Ariana's for Wednesday dinner, as I do every week, and we plan to finish the night off by eating a pineapple vanilla cake that literally has my name on it. All the bad feelings, all the hard times, just another moment of processing, just the buffering, just the changing of seasons...

The Words of Others Helping Me Speak, As Always...

"We bloomed in Spring. Our bodies are the leaves of God. The apparent seasons of life and death our eyes can suffer; but our souls, dear, I will just say this forthright: they are God Himself, we will never perish until He does." -St. Teresa of Avila

Today, March 22, 2011, my grandfather on my dad's side died. He had alzheimer's disease for as long as I can actually remember of him, but died today of simple age related complications, I'd guess, and it is a blessing that his spirit is free of that disease now. I didn't see him often, and mostly only as a kid; I have vague foggy memories of seeing him in the same room as me, watching him watch my grandma, but nothing I can be sure is of reality's making and not just that of my own mind. But I knew him, somehow. My father, as his son, whether one of loyalty or rebellion, reflected in his own way much of who my grandfather presented him to be--- aspects of who he was and what he believed in radiate through my father's respect of traditions and celebration, and my father's loyalty. I know my grandfather also because of my grandma, because of how she has influenced my life, although she's always been far away. Her kindness and selflessness were encouraged by his support and dedication through decades of marriage, devotion, and love. The relationships I barely witnessed but were still able to sense are mostly what I am left thinking of today as I think pleasantly on the memory of my grandfather, his love of family, service to his country, and deep faith in God.

As much as it is sad to think on any loss, really, I feel grateful most of all that he is finally free of disease and free of physical restrictions. I worry about my family, my grandma, my dad... but I know that there is so much blessing in this. There is a cycle in effect here... all things appear to terminate, but nothing is ever over- only the body can die. We can transform, move on, pass on. But to die is only to move on to the next adventure... I don't see how anything could really be over. The universe is breathing with what we leave behind-- words, love, feeling, courage, testament. As God's word hums through the earth and the everything, I feel the beating of some kind of miracle. Life and death are not stopping points--- just "seasons," like St. Teresa said. The only thing changing is the scenery. There has been a profound beauty in today as the passing of my beloved grandfather has reminded me of my many life blessings.

All shall be well, all shall be well...

This is a link to the story about the apartment I saw burning on Saturday morning. It was really shocking to walk outside and see this... so scary to see so much smoke just across the street. I didn't know it was so bad... something about seeing it in real life made it more difficult to believe. Anyway, I am glad there has only been one loss from the fire so far. Super thankful that I still have an apartment to come back to and fresh air in my lungs.

http://elcerrito.patch.com/articles/update-woman-dies-after-solano-structure-fire

Growing Up

So, I just paid my Limited credit card, which I only have actually to build credit (I buy something like once every four months or something), and transferred money from some account to another. And I have been trying to figure out how to work all the days in the week and trying to scheme how to make extra money on the side, just because I literally am living paycheck to paycheck... and I'm realizing how much debt I have to pay back and how hard it will be to do that unless I stay at Dora's for.... ever. Bryan and I had a funky sort of day in a non-positive way really and Japan is destroyed and I feel like I'm drowning in all the things I can't understand. For the first time since moving here two months ago +, I got homesick and I wanted to be in my living room watching The Mentalist (best-worst-show ever) with my dad having the cats cuddle my lap and just not do anything. I get so upset knowing I can't make the time to call back the people who call me or call the people who ask me to and I feel guilty about things I can't control. Today was not a good day for feelings.

But somehow I think about how I can wake up in the morning and do the things I need to do, how I have moved across the country and mostly been able to take care of myself... I don't feel so much lucky as I do glad that I wake up in the morning with the motivation to seize the opportunities in front of me and that I was blessed with a pleasant disposition. I feel crazy right now... just really in a deep, dark place, basement style... but I still feel like I've been worse... that at least I know I can get through it... that there's goodness in this all and that there's beauty in figuring out what that is. I just need to have these breakdowns, I think, so that I can see it all for what it is sometimes, just little broken pieces... and be able to accept those pieces and try to build a miracle of it anyway.

I don't feel good, but it's warm in my room. And I know that counts for something.

I just want to get to Friday which is payday which means I can buy my plane tickets and register for the conference and take a freaking break from "settling in" for a few days. I'm really glad I'm here. I'm excessively thankful for having the eyes to see all these opportunities in front of me and for being surrounded by incredible people all the time. But, sometimes, I just want everything to shut up shut up shut up so I can tell you that I don't care, that it doesn't matter, that this isn't the point! I feel like I'm forgetting to breathe. It will be nice to be in an airplane going to see literally nobody that I know and just be able to do a lot of listening and maybe a lot of sleeping and talk about Henry and Anais. I feel like I'm in high school again, just misunderstood and really uncomfortable and unknowable and unable to tell anybody that that is where I'm at right now.

Step outside of your perspective for one moment and feel what the people around you are experiencing. Blood pulses through our veins in different rhythms. I put my hands up and try to see if I can forget myself for a moment and accept what is in the air. Do you hear it? They're trying to tell you everything they don't know in words.

I like the times when the lyrics match our arguments, when we both feel that happening, when we both let the silence speak to us until we remember how to speak with one another. I like knowing that at the end of the day, we can't separate unless we're sure everything feels better. I appreciate you.

Last night, after a terrible-no-good day, I bought a mini sewing kit from Joann's Fabrics. I started sewing a pillow. It's not much but it made me feel better. Since I was little, I let all my anxiety build in my fingertips and doing things like writing or sewing or coloring or putting together puzzles really help work that out. Anyway, I made this deicison that I want to make all my own stuff now. We'll see how that goes, but I feel excited for it.

Waaazbfoeghu93.

Bad Vibes March

I'm really bummed that I had to use some money from my savings account already. I feel really sad about it. I felt like I was doing a good job saving and I was putting money in there every chance, really. It feels like the first time in my life I had gotten serious about actually having a savings account. But today I got my first ever ticket... for parking during street sweeping like an IDIOT... so dumb for not reading the signs! Every street, the street sweeping schedule is different and I forgot to check this one time. I just moved the money into my checking account and I feel so disappointed in myself. I have witnessed a lot of growth within myself since I moved here and experienced a surge in responsibility and then I blow it. I really hate being a grown up sometimes... it means holding yourself accountable.

Today has been all around pretty miserable, from mood to circumstance to interactions. But... I haven't given up on March yet. Maybe this month I will win the $3000 from Walgreens. Or maybe I will buy some rainboots. I really want to be more creatively productive this month and send more mail now that my income is steadier. I want to continue saving and continue pumping out recipes and sharing them on my new blog. I feel March is a time of changes and while nature processes her's, I want to make some of my own.

Happy Ninja Day, folks.

Lameness.

So my dad sent me some package, which probably contained all my mail from home since I've been in California and by the time it got to me, the package was ripped open and empty. The first things that cross my mind are: my identity is going to be stolen, mail from my dad is the most important/valuable mail I get, and who the heck steals mail? The thing is, nothing in that package was probably worth anything to anybody else in the world. It possibly contained my jury duty summons, junk mail, and possibly a whole bunch of aquarian horoscopes from the newspaper. It just makes me feel really lousy because, as happy as I am here, I don't have a lot of friends around and I don't have a lot of people who know me at all, so mail is one of the most important things to me. I don't know why but when I saw my dad's handwriting on the package, I started crying a lot. It's so incredible to be here and I'm doing really well and I'm really grateful for everything--- but it is so hard. Every single day I worry about my parents... and I feel so sad for not being able to not visit my mommy in the hospital, and I worry about my dad feeling alone. Somebody stealing my mail is not the worst possible thing that could ever have happened, obviously, but I just feel robbed and paranoid and miserable about it. Okay, complaining over. Xoxo.

I guess I should just get a p.o. box.

On the plus side, all this crying over spilled mail has made me realize how quality the new Maybelline Falsies mascara is. For non-waterproof, it's holding up extremely well. The little things...

Eat Like a Shoe Bird

http://likeashoebird.blogspot.com

This is my foodie blog. I want to start posting recipes of all the stuff I cook that is actually good... there's nothing on there yet but follow if you feel like it, so you can see once I do post it! Some recipes will be my own, some will belong to others with my edits, but all will be sourced. Holla.

For someone who is so good with encouraging others to express themselves, I continue having a hard time doing so within myself.

In other news, I just ate a banana. It was completely delicious. I would like to have a kitchen of my own where I could cook real food or at least heat up some soup. I know I am allowed to here, but it feels weird. Anyway, that banana was so good and I am still thinking about it. I like how so many fruits come in prepackaged safety containers... thick skin and prickly outsides. Such an incredible food.

Getting accepted to that conference as an independent scholar feels like the biggest accomplishment of my life.

Working my butt off to get nothing done.

It's so awkward writing entries like I have been feeling lately... like "this is what I did today; it was awesome, blah blah bleeeech." But. That's what I've been feeling. If you know me... at all... maybe you have noticed that my number one habit is prefacing EVERY.THING.I.SAY. Obnoxious, but so it goes.

Bryan, Matt, and I have been going to this Open Mic night in SF every Monday for about a month now (I've officially lived here over a month... so weiiiiird) and Bryan plays excellent tunes and Matt sometimes reads poetry and we listen to really vulgar comedians (which I really dislike) and have chats with new pseudo-friends on the walks back to BART. It's a cool time and something I like going to a lot even if I don't really love many of the performances. I find it really inspiring to see other people put their creative-selves out there so openly because sharing my art is really challenging to me. This Monday night I decided to read 3 poems... the whole time I was shaking but it went pretty smoothly and made me want to be more prolific and write... anything new. Last time I read poetry at Alley Cat, BB actually missed most of it (though he's read a lot of my stuff before) so sharing that experience was really important to us I think, sort of connecting the creative aspects of our relationships and seeing how they can exist in the same arena. Idk.

Shifting from only-ever long distance with BB to regular dating has been more intense and less intense than I could possibly describe and it's an experience in which I can't fully articulate for myself. All I know is that it has been huge with huge adjustments. But so beautiful! Having him surprise me at work with a sugar free red bull and then driving around, Yogurtland, back to El Cerrito, hanging out, cooking dinner, being the only people ever to enjoy US SKINS (DEAL WITH IT.)... it's incredible how moved I am by such simple interactions with him. And today he shared just a really open, casual statement of gratitude toward my presence in his life and my role in our relationship and hearing that just really touched me. It is good to hear that you matter sometimes. I am glad things have gone down the way they have because even when we fight or things don't go the way we want or it's just all so hard to handle, I can still look at him and be amazed, blown away... just brillianced by the miracle of it all. He completely impresses me. I feel so in love still. And, for that, I am thankful.

I will try to start writing something more real but it's gotten hard to get real somehow. Not that this is in any way inauthentic or that I'm not being myself but just that I have more to say. Truth is, though, that at the end of the day, it's nice right now just to say what I spent the day doing. Idontknowifanyoneeveneverreadsthis. Point is, I had an awesome day and it feels so good just to say I'm doing well.

WORK

So, I have officially accepted 4 jobs while here in California, currently employed with 3 of those. None of these jobs have anything to do with what I studied in school, and I'm really okay with that-- that was part of what I wanted when I came out here. It's a little ridiculous to me, though, that even with 3 jobs, one of those being "full-time" (which is a LIE by the way), I only have $10 to my name right now. It's not that bad actually. It's not like I'm spending fiendish amounts of cash or anything... mostly I've just been making food with BB. But waiting for the first California paycheck has been really irritating. But I'm grateful to have a job---and super grateful to have three. Ha.

I hold a full-time position at a jewlery store... it's called Jest Jewels, privately owned and based out of SF, and reminds me of an adult-version of Claire's. We have lots of high end stuff and cheap costume jewelry all in the same place. It's a nice place to work and in a really nice area (West Berkeley) but can lack stimulation I'm used to from other jobs. It's okay though and the people who work there are all really nice. I also am a hostess at a restaurant called THE SUNNY SIDE CAFE. That was in all-caps because there was a Sunny Side in Carrollton, but it's totally different. It's in Albany, where I live, and I love working there. I've never worked in a restaurant before but it feels so amazing to be super busy all the time and interact with people all day. It's so fun and the food is incredible. I feel somehow like working here is a really spiritual experience for me (which I know sounds ridiculous) but since my dad has been a chef all my life, I've grown to love that smell of kitchen and appreciate cooking as an artistic and spirtual experience. I feel somehow like I'm getting to know my dad better while I'm there. I feel like that sounds crazy. But it's true. The third job I got today and it's just for being an on-call person at the YMCA. It's right by my house, so I can walk there (and to Sunny Side) and I get a free membership to the Y. I didn't know that when I went for the interview (about the free)... I just knew it seemed like it would work with my schedule, looked like fun, and was close by.

I feel really mindless on one level when I post this kind of writing, just stampin out my day, writing about goings-on. I want to start writing poetry again but I feel an indescribable resentment toward my art. It's conflicting but necessary for creation I think. Maaah.

Today was rollercoastery but then I came back to Dora's to find a package from my "wife," Danielle, filled with Cheez-its and colors and a gangster dinosaur necklace. I feel glad to know that even though I spend a lot of time realizing how many friends I don't have here that people are still thinking about me somewhere and taking time out of their day to make mine a little better. It makes me sad to think I can't hug Danielle and tell her how happy it made me to get this package but at the same time it made me feel so appreciated and loved that I can use that to power my spirit and be better to the people I do see here.

I hope you guys are doing well. I also hope secretly that my paper gets accepted to that conference.......!!!

Candy Bars

I need to talk about things but even saying that was very difficult. This is not really news persay and probably does not require an update, but it's how I'm feeling at 1:37 am. I am more than okay... I'm very happy and I feel treasures showing up in my life everyday... but it does not change the fact that at 1:37am on a Friday night, I'm sitting alone in my bedroom holding back tears over something I don't understand enough to even begin talking about.

Graduating from college was the most disorienting thing that's ever happened to me. Honestly, you don't have any idea what it's like until you do it. I think for people who have a more traditional path to follow or want a family or career immediately, it might make more sense. But there's just this deep unsettling energy running through my veins at basically all times. No "good" or "bad"... just is... a pulsing of weird feeling. What I'm trying to say is that I think for all the years I was in school, it will take just as long to get over not being in school, unless I go back. I just feel weird. Like they charged me up with all this specific knowledge, to show me how much I don't understand about my "major" or literature or the world, and now I feel like I'm being lazy because I got a full time job at a jewelry shop in addition to another job... like I'm overqualified for something I'm not at all qualified for. I knew this would be the case, but it doesn't keep the experience from being challenging and exhausting. I need to talk to somebody about this but I get so tired from thinking that I'm forgetting how to talk. I don't answer phone calls, I get frightened by facebook, I get anxious when people want to talk to me about anything substantial. I'm doing better than awesome here, just needed a moment of exhalation.

Today, a lady came into Jewels wearing this hat made of straw or paper or something completely outrageous. She told me she liked my nails and my big eyes and then told me all about herself, just casually falling apart in front of a total stranger. I felt like I was inside her brain-- felt the one, felt her needing for me to listen, felt the nerves jumping. It was weird, maybe, but I felt like crying, feeling that close to somebody I didn't know. It was really nice actually.

You've done everything right. Sometimes I don't have the right things to say and sometimes I bother the people I care the most about, and I'm sorry that I can't do anything to change that. But what I meant to say was that you are a miracle, a giant, a masterpiece. "It takes a lot to go out there and radiate your essence." But when you do, you amaze me. I love knowing you.

Anyway, I've rambled my face off. Peace.

Countryside and Caffiene.

Warning: This entry is not meant to be entertaining or original. If you want to hear your typical cross-country roadtrip life-is-completely-changing story, then bother reading it. But that's exactly all this is.

I tried to update this from the road but there was so much going on that it was hard to even answer text messages. Driving is a really exhausting enterprise, especially when it's across the country in two different directions and when you realize how much you are both leaving behind and heading toward. It's important to stay in the moment but when you think about it the past and future are really happening right now too... and I think it's okay to freak out a little when you are considering all of these things. I thought about all my friends while I drove across the various states... thought about all the things I needed to leave behind, all the negative things I was holding onto, all the security and beliefs that don't mean anything really... all the things I had leftover to say to people. I kind of left without trying too hard to say bye to a lot of people because it didn't seem to make sense somehow. I needed to leave at peace with the things I did and did not do, knowing that there is no pair of sentences that can make me feel completely great about my entire life... I just needed to go, with the way things are, with the way they were meant to be. Being here now, I feel like I did the right thing, like there's no way I could have done things any differently really. I am so thankful to have been blessed with so many wonderful chances, and with those different kind of eyes, the ones that can recognize the heavens opening in all skies and the opportunity in each inch. Anyway, onward.

Bryan Wilson Bramlett and I began our trek around 8:30am on a Wednesday, December 29 and headed North. In no rush, we got to Richmond, VA around 7pm and, after hearing the weather in New England was pretty awful still, piles of dirty snow and such, we stopped at a Knight's Inn for the night. It was a cool spot and we had an awesome grocery store dinner... watched the movie Chuck and Larry and just enjoyed the ridiculousness that is our time together. Giggle fits ensued. The next day we made it to New York City and stayed with Bryan's friend (he's known her since Kindergarten!), the lovely Katherine Aul. Again, blessed with delicious and nutritious food, our NYC adventure was off to a solid start. Katherine took us on a mini-tour of her chunk of the city, showed us around Central Park, provided good conversation and a contagiously pleasant attitude the next day. Bryan and I wandered for a short while off by ourselves and then later went to a party with Katherine and her "wife" (like mine!) named Teets. Bryan and I spent a lot of the party together, and a lot of the party with Miss Teets, enjoying the company of the crowd and crunkosity of the three-layer apartment. 2011 was brought in with a series of kisses and a lot of happy noises, good people, and a really beautiful feeling of vibrancy, aliveness, aloudness. Saturday, Bram and I wandered, completely nervously, around Times Square, just soaking in the sheer whelm of it all. Not my fave experience ever but I think it was good to see the city at that kind of time... sometimes things are best to see this way. Either way, it was an overall cool experience and Katherine's hostessing was good enough to create a Yelp! page for. I would totally love her on Yelp! Also, there were cats.

On January 2, Bryan and I started crossing the country in the other direction: westward. During our 4 day journey, we saw highways and roadkill, snow and stars, indians and sunsets. We saw everything. It was amazing, most of all, to see how each state differs from the last, how the sunset across the entire sky of Ohio transformed into the misery that is driving across Indiana. We flowed into Illinois where there were so many good vibes and soft lights, cities perfectly distanced from the highways, buildings built in accordance with God's permission, like they were laid out like constellations on the ground almost. We stayed the night in a $35 (after-tax) room in Morris, Illinois (ha!). It was basically a riot of which deserves more than a sentence, but perhaps a tale for another day. Then was the rest of Illinois, BEAUTIFUL IOWA!!!, Nebraska, and a bit of Wyoming. I drove through Iowa on my own, through the whole state, Bryan asleep by my side most of the way. There was so much peace in those rolling hills, sweeping flatlands, all of it. It was just the most comforting and spiritual drive of my life. I just felt like prayers and promise were keeping me at peace behind that wheel, going 80mph and feeling like everything was in perfect order. Nebraska was aiight, beautiful stars! Wyoming, by night, was all about minimal humanity, all about the natural land, and NATIVES! By day, it was snowing, winding roads. Bryan took the wheel that entire day... way too nerve-racking for a Granny-driver such as myself. Point is, we rolled through Utah and Nevada, stopping in a sketch convenience store, Knight's Inn, Casino & Diner combo truck-stop. Nothing to write home about. Fu' Realz. The next day we just rolled through California's windy mountains into the Bay Area. So much green everywhere you looked... just grassy hills. It really amazed us how the geography of the states fits where they separate... was that on purpose? I guess it doesn't really matter. Getting to El Cerrito was exciting... it felt good to be back in a familiar place, knowing the car (newly named Cleopatra) had made it, and so had we.

Since we got back on Wednesday, I've been handing out resumes and looking daily for somewhere to live... to start my own independent adventure. It's been really frustrating and difficult and I've cried a ton in the last few days, just emptying myself of weird emotional build-up and necessary anxieties, but I know it's all so good and that I'm right where I need to be, doing the best I possibly can. I am so lucky to have Bryan here to tell me I'm pretty when I feel miserable, to hold my hand when I feel so scared, and to remind me constantly how lucky I am just by being present with me, and understanding of my struggle. I am so grateful for this challenge, so grateful for all the encouragement from those I know, for my own motivation to do things on my own, for being young and healthy and ready to do everything. I just hope it works out, too. I just hope I have somewhere of my own to live, a job to go to. I know that this was long-winded, but such is life. And, oh, it is so very good.

Meow, from the Left Coast.
<3