Why Adventure?

Why adventure?
Because you can learn about yourself
Because you can learn about others
Because you can learn about the world.
Because you can jump from an airplane and fall through the clouds
Because you can jump from a bridge with an elastic band and a bath towel around your ankles and live to tell the tale
Because you can jump from a building, stop and pose for a photo, and land on your feet
Like a Superman with style.
Because you can pack a backpack for a year or two or three
And at the end of the time, have so much to show for it, so much to tell about it
Because in the end even though you may have so many bragging rights, you don't want to brag
In fact it's the last thing you'd want to do.
Because you have been humbled
By the foot of Mt. Everest
By the peaks of the Himalayas
By the presence of the Dalai Lama
By the grandeur of the Taj Mahal
By the length and scope of the Great Wall of China
By the stone ruins of Angkor Wat
By the suffering of the prisoners in S21
By the deaths of them in the Killing Fields
By generosity of the strangers you met along the way
Who have so much less than you
And don't mind or resent you for it
By beautiful beaches
And horrible conditions
By earthquakes and tsunamis and nuclear disasters
By the friends you've met and come to love
Because when you adventure you are open to all these things
Because when you adventure you become more open to everything
And everyone.
Because when you adventure you read about people like this: http://roguepriest.net/the-great-adventure/
Instead of people who are famous for being famous and very little else
Because when you adventure,
You live.
Truly, fully, deeply.
Every day.
Always.
All your life.

Wow.

I just commented on my friend Christine's blog out of overwhelming need to tell her how cute her kid was and what a great shot she got of him (impressive on two counts, in that I'm not all too impressed with the "cuteness" of kids generally, and secondly no matter how good the photography I'm rarely moved to comment).

Due to Blogger's WONDERFULLY restrictive commenting options - how bout just the normal name/email/url maybe? - I used this identity. Then clicked on it to see what exactly it links to. And lo and behold! My life of a year and a half some ago. Such secrets, such secrecy. Well I am OUT and PROUD now, baby! And nope, nothing to do with sexuality...the big thing on the horizon that no one could know about was none other than this marvelous trip through Asia we're on!

My, what a lifetime ago. To imagine, having to cower in shame and sin, for daring to dream, and moreover...daring to do. What a wretched lifetime that was...to be sitting on the knowledge that we were plotting and planning and eventually would be embarking on probably our greatest endeavor of our lives short of having kids, and having to hide it, pretend it didn't exist. Imagine!?

It sounds ridiculous, but it was reality. Between the economic climate of the time and the unacceptable possibility of either or both of us losing our jobs prematurely if they knew we had plans to exit anyway and they needed another head for the chopping block, along with the general lack of enthusiasm, encouragement or support and downright opposition we would receive from some family members...our beautiful dream was kept as our dirty secret.

But nevermind all that. It is so far behind us now. It needn't resurface until we pen our memoirs and our books on the whole process and journey. Then it will need to, because undoubtedly it is a rocky and ridiculous path that others will have to walk across. Additionally, we want to start removing those rocks in general. So many of our friends and family would and did and do support, encourage, and cheer for what we were planning and are now doing; it isn't fair that a few can hold so much negative sway. But they can. And they do. The greatest sword against this unfairness is, as usual, none sculpted in violence or anger but education and empathy. I'll probably never live to see a day where all rocks on a winding path are removed in any regard; but I'll almost undoubtedly get to live a life where every day at least a few can be picked up and put aside.

Anyway, life is wicked good now. Sjoerd came and went and met Ray and we all had a wonderful, wonderful, wonderful 3 weeks together. Who says exes and exes of exes/current significant others can't all be best of friends! They can! And now we are free and open and living it up on the open (silk?) road through Asia. We've been on the road almost 8 months now, and the trip has been everything we hoped it would be times a thousand. From seeing the Dalai Lama to 9-day whitewater rafting trips through Nepal to the Taj Mahal to laying cheek-to-back on a tiger in Thailand, we've been going full throttle into some of the best days and certainly greatest memories of our lives and loving every second of it (except for maybe the day we had Delhi Belly the first week in India and thought we might die).

This blog did its job well; I'm still writing "professionally", as in writing and getting money for it, and that pulls in a little income every month. It's not much, but it's enough to, say, offset the costs to go pet the tigers again, which I think is good enough! Meanwhile, Ray and I are still working when we can to develop our real heart and soul, our site which I'd now like to direct your attention to henceforth: www.operationbackpackasia.com

All the best, and thanks for all the fish!

Big Times

I realize I've pretty much purposely abandoned this writing project, I think for a couple of reasons. Foremost, it seemed futile on a couple of levels, primarily being, no one of the greater public was reading it anyway. Secondly, even if someone were to read it, they weren't getting full honesty as I am accustomed to and even adamant about. I hardly see what the point is to take a snapshot of my life if it's not of the whole picture anyway. I have never had to hide things or be evasive or omitting of anything, let alone huge things, but sometimes such things have to be done for a time. I don't intend it to be forever and not even for much longer, but until I can cast that elephant from my room, there's not really a point in "updating" because I'm not really updating anything in my heart at all, and that's where I've always written from.

Lastly, I guess this blog accomplished the purpose I had given it, which was to jumpstart my writing habits again/finally/for the first time...and it did. I've now got nearly $700 in my paypal account solely from writing endeavors - and extremely casual, low stress ones at that. It was just what I wanted and needed, just a start, to begin the habit, and to get a taste for what it's like to make money doing what I do. I'm consumed at the moment with other things as well, but it is of great enticement to know that lurks, ever-ready, waiting for me to seize the infinite opportunities that exist for me to wield my pen at.

And, just like that, once the preamble is laid, my spark to inspire the writing despite all these things has faltered. Not for good, just for tonight. It is late after all. But...I might as well post this anyway, and maybe next time I can get right to it.

Suffice it to say for now then, that big things are on the horizon. Sjoerd arrives in 3 days.

Plugging along

Back in Tucson, and fairly well adjusted. Thankfully even though I was gone for about the same amount of time, it isn't going to take 2 months to come back down to "real life" the way it did after the cruise. Visiting mom was more restful and enjoyable, as opposed to the cruise which was adventure and too much of a taste of the old world-unexplored high to be able to return to the 9-5 (er, 6a-12:30p) with any kind of enthusiasm.

Things are good. Ray and I had a nice talk today about things upcoming which was nice, and took advantage of the last day ever that we'll be able to cash in our old books for store credit at Borders. They changed their policy along with Barnes and Noble a few weeks back that store receipts are now required for a return. Gee, ya think! I'd be bummed except I was already amazed that I was still able to do that for so long, and plus we were able to swap out a whooooooole lot more years-old books for brand new ones than I'd ever have thought possible. Score one for keeping your property in like-new condition.

I'd say which books I got in exchange, but...not yet. Hopefully someday soon. I can see the end of that tunnel now, at least...

Esteban and Monica got married last night, and I had a lot of fun at the reception with Ray and his friends. Not as much fun this morning, but...well, it was worth it. :) It was sure a neat feeling though even in the throes of the open bar and its according inhibitions, to see a guy you want to be flirting with and have him already be all yours, before, during, and long after. He was gorgeous as ever, and a few times I caught myself thinking I'm sure glad I got so lucky as to get a guy with such beautiful eyes. I felt like I did that night at dinner for Prom, when I looked at him and felt both such familiarity, and awe...

One other big thing (huge, gargantuan, mind-blowing?). Sjoerd's now the holder of an Amsterdam-Phoenix roundtrip airline ticket, and in just over two months I will be seeing one of my very best friends again for the first time in two years, since we hugged each other goodbye in another fateful airport farewell, where you never know if or when you'll see each other again, or how things will have changed. Boy I can sure say for all the open-ended things I might have thought would come to pass in the ensuing days, I definitely NEVER could have predicted THIS. Ray, living together, the cruise job, still being in Arizona, racking up some monster savings and some matching plans. But life's life, and here we are, and you roll with the punches and do your best to maintain the ties that mean the most to you, and Soj and I have done a DAMNED good job of doing so. And Ray and I have done a DAMNED good job of building a relationship that is so solid that it is in no way threatened by the presence of someone I have, and do, love so dearly as I do Sjoerd. I feel pretty grateful for those two gifts in my life, that have come in the form of these two incredible examples of how strong, and loving, people can truly be.

It is liberating to be able to love so freely, without being held back or stifled or stunted or made to feel badly for it.

All in all, I couldn't be happier with this stage of the game.

I hate Duality

Well, tonight is almost my last night in Idaho with mom. I hate this shit. I hate that to move forward means moving away from where you were. Doesn't matter where, or whom, or when, it's always the same. To go to New Zealand meant to leave NAU, to adventure on with Sjoerd meant to leave Queenstown, to meet Ray meant to leave Sjoerd, to have my life in Tucson means to not have life with mom. To go to Asia means to not have any of it, anything else. It means deepest enrichment of the newest kinds but complete isolation from all that was.

Most pertinently at the moment, to go back to Ray, and the ratties, and my room, and hockey, and enjoying a wonderful relationship, means to give up the fun days exploring and hanging out and doing lots but doing little, and getting to see my cousins, and hanging out with mom. Life can be so unfair. It's like it throws these lessons in your face, and I'm cognizant about how I should be making the most of it, but how do you really? I mean you reach a saturation point where there's just not much to do in the minute to minute, but watch the sand trickle through, until at the end of it you're left holding the top empty and the bottom full, and then it's time to pick up and move on and say goodbye again.

I know there's no real option but to hunker down and never move again, and maybe that's why so many people do that. But for better or worse, I wasn't born with that option instilled, and it never did get grilled into me. How could it, I'm the product of a nomadic mother. It's done me great good that those same people who hunker will never know, but damned if it doesn't give me wrenchings that they'll never know either.

Anyways, I'm not feeling sorry for myself, I'm just feeling the bummer of it all. I've had fun, and I can't entirely say I want to leave, and I can't entirely say I don't want to go home. I'm stuck in the middle, and I hate it. Well. I'M not stuck in the middle. Life will carry me on regardless of my feelings about it, so I guess it's just my feelings that are stuck on it. And in the end oh the fuck well about that. It's back to work on Wednesday anyway and then this and that and this and that and on and on and on.

Ugh I know I'm working towards something with great payoff down the road but it's getting harder to see that. The travel seems just as daunting as the work to earn the travel. I don't want to go back to the grind and I don't want to be out on the limb either. But I don't want to kill myself either so where does that leave a person?

One foot in front of the other, I suppose. One day at a time, with a deep breath, or a try at it anyway which is usually the best I can muster, and knowing that even though at the moment it doesn't feel like this feeling will ever pass...it will, and probably it won't take too long after all. It's always been the moment of change anyway that was the hardest. I didn't even want to remove myself from that grind all that much to begin with, right, so why should it be so hard to go back. I guess it won't be so hard to BE back (so I'm telling myself emptily at the moment), it's just the GOING back. So much work...so much faith...and on what? I've never been these places, I don't speak the language, I don't know the people, I don't know that it will all be worthwhile....

But, well, even as I speak the words I know they are untrue. Well, they are true, most of them. But I do know that it will be worthwhile.

It always has been.

But still.

And on the subject of love...

Ok, my love, this one's for you.
I felt bad, tonight, and hesitated as to whether I should even tell you
the Truth
But I never want to sacrifice the Truth, even if it's to preserve your Feelings
Not because I don't care
Infinitely
More than anything
About you...
But,
Because I do.

So I don't ever want a moment, even a special moment
One of those warm fuzzy ones
To be based on a farce
To be based on something
That wasn't true, and
Play you like a fool
For letting you go on believing
As though it were.

So no, Ray, that last one, it wasn't about you.
Notice how I didn't mention the name, before
There was a reason for that, because
Yours is the only name on my lips

And I know that lately
My thoughts have been with others
Maybe seemingly any others
Besides you, but
Once again
That's not true.

It's because you're always there
Behind me,
[figuratively]
For you are always there...
Beside me
[I will never look upon you as anything but my Equal]

And it's because of your steadfastness
And because of my faith in us
And my feelings for you
That I dare to let my heart expand
AS IT'S MEANT TO
Without feeling fear
Or hesitancy
To love
Others
Sometimes even as much
As I love you.

[This does not change the fact
That you
Are the only one
I want to BE with.]

[ever.]

Ray I don't know who came up with the notion
That if you love someone completely
You can only love That person
That much.
Me, I reject that notion.
Completely.

Because Ray, I have found that with Love
When I Love
The more I love - the more I have known love,
The more I have been able to give and share and grow Love...
The more I have to give.
The more I have to share.
And the more it is able to Grow.

Whose twisted idea was it that to do so,
Is to detract from your love with That person?
Whose idiocy dictated that if you are committed,
Then you stay between the lines,
Period.

Whose friggin backwards logic
Says that
"Here is one person,
Who accepts your love
And you
For all you are
And all it can be,
And gives it back tenfold,
Always...
So
STOP THERE."
As in,
Do not look for others to love
Do not share what you have in you
With others,
Gasp, not like that, certainly.

Because I have found you, and you have found me
Does that aid the ailing heart
Who has never been asked to feel?
Who has never been told by fingertips who speak from the cosmos
That it is ok to let go, and
What it can feel like
When they do?

Imagine not knowing how to love...
I know you can.

How much sense does it make that if we can learn these things
And expound upon them with each other,
Then as our revelations grow...
We keep them between only ourselves
We
Who already know them.
Who already enjoy them.
When others, especially my FRIENDS,
Go to sleep aching inside?

And I'm to walk away and say "sorry, it's not my problem now, because
I've got a Permanent love now"?

Good luck with that?

Hope you can find someone who understands?
The way I know that I do?

I'll tell you who came up with this frightened law,
A frightened person.
A person too scared to hold their Love with an open palm.
A person too scared that their love
Wouldn't withstand the tests of unconventionality
Or the tests of when you say you'll love someone forever
STAYING true to them
Even when circumstances change
Or even because circumstances with others
Are challenging.
Especially then.

I am not afraid.

And so I say again,
When I Love
The more I love - the more I have known love
The more I have been able to give and share and grow Love...
The more I have to give.
The more I have to share.
And the more it is able to Grow.
ALL loves.
With That person, and with every other person
That I have ever known.

That is why I am in touch with so many people from my past
That is why it matters
SO MUCH
to me.
That is why I always hold on
Even when they don't hold on back.
Like you didn't...
Once.

I hold on, because I can
Because I have that love to spare
And I never learned to stop caring about them because
I never felt I had to.
You don't make me feel I have to, because
You
Are wonderful.
Because you
Are amazing,
Just like I always knew you would be
As we were growing up.

I still remember that night, stealing glances at you in the candlelight...
Prom night, at dinner...

I knew you would be this incredible.

And I know you understand these things, but
I know your heart
And I know that knowing things, doesn't it always make it easy
To Share.
But you can share me, and my love Ray, with the rest of the world
And never feel like you're being left behind, or relegated to the background,
Because you're not
And you never will be.
You will never get less of me for it,
I promise you,
I will only be all the greater for you
Because I will be a soul who is fulfilling what they were meant to do
On this earth.
To Love,
And love much.

As much as possible.

So just know, dear Ray, that
Just because that one piece
Wasn't about you
And that just because my heart has learned the secrets to know how to expand
And encompass
And embrace
Infinitely
[and because I know I must have a voice]
[and because I know what I need to speak]
[like a touch]
[like a hand upon a shoulder]
[or a catching of the eye]
[When they know that I know
And that I can see
Straight through them
And that I still Care
To the core of my soul]
Just because I can make room for a hundred others
That I may choose to love
With all my heart
Until the day I die

Ray

That will NEVER
Mean
That you will suffer for it
That you will be pushed aside
Or sacrificed
Or forgotten
Or mean any less
Than if they were never there.

You were my Original, Ray
You have always been my Original
I only got to have one of those in my life, and
It was you.

And I came back to you,
Time and time again
And...
Now.

As we have discussed, this would have gone on permanently
You were always the one
You were always mine
I was always yours
In that way that you know that
Even through all the years
That I loved others,
I never loved you any less
My love for you only grew with time
And History
Just as it does today.
Nothing has changed, really

I always loved You infinitely...
First.

Oh. My. God.

What in the HELL was I thinking??!

I have to mark a momentous occasion here...I have just deleted - completely - my LiveJournal account. My Real one, from 2002. May I repeat, what in the HELL was I thinking, having that stuff on there??!

I'm all about honesty and openness but MY GOD. When I saw what was on there it had to be deleted THAT INSTANT. I looked through to see if there were any comments I wanted to keep, there were a few from Douche Bag Thom (which is different than regular Thom...or are they one in the same?...Nah...I'll never believe it.), but I can't deny that it was because of said Thom that I was able to get that stuff OFF OF THE INTERNET, NOW!!!, because he'd put all of it in Word format for me already, long ago. Thank god.

-DELETE-

One good thing about seeing the comments he did leave (those were almost the only times he did leave them, when he was being passive aggressive and we were fighting), it made it easier to say "piss off, jerk" and good riddance.

Yeah right.

Nothing changes. I'm never happy to see a relationship turn to ash like that and blow away. He still wants to pretend I don't exist. I still want to be good friends again. It will never go away.

Anyway, before I wax all melancholic on water that's evaporated under the bridge, I just had to get this out somewhere that the Delete has been done. I'd be sad, but...I'm too relieved, second only to my shell-shock that it was ever there to begin with.

Crazy teenagers/20 years olds.

You.

How do you still have this crazy command over my mind...
There have been others, but there have been no others like You.
Nearly inexplicable,
But completely inextricable
From my heart.
When a dream becomes a nightmare
That drops me to my knees, because
It was about you Not really Loving me.
One simple conversation, the first one in a long time
in Real Time
And my heart is pounding like I cannot believe
Why
Can you do this
To me?

I miss you.

Because being away makes me see life almost as clearly as I can when I travel
Because I had an experience last weekend that still hasn't left me
Because I still miss him from it, and I haven't known him a fraction as well as I've known you
Because right now, I actually know him better than I know you now
And that's just not right.

Because I love you.
Because I swore I'd always love you, and I know I always will.
Because we don't avoid the ones we love, to falsely protect the ones we love more.
Or at least, we shouldn't.
Because my True love protects him more than any superficial insulation,
Because he doesn't need protecting, and neither does our Love
And because there is no such thing as loving him "more"
Because he is me and I am you.

Because you believe in Real Things, and yet you had to go just now
Because oh Soj, I love you so much.
It's been almost two years, and two years is too long,
Far too long for us.

Because I knew when we said goodbye that it could be forever
But I didn't know it would be forever like this
And I'm thinking now that I'm thinking about it
It could be forever like That.

I don't want to die, but I could.
You're not meant to go, but you might.
Anything can happen at anytime and we know it
A few of the seemingly only people who grasp the concept
For all that it is and
All that it Means.

Because I think this means that I don't want to take that chance
That the last time I saw you,
When I knew that it could be forever
That it could be Forever.
Not when I miss you this much
Not when I love you this much
Not when there's nothing to hide from, really
But him who is me and I am who am you,
And Love.

Because this is our Life,
And life is so big
And yet life is so short
And I will Love you forever,
And I'm starting to see very little reason to not take you in my arms
To tell you that

To show you that.

Because...since last weekend I've been feeling that old spark
And maybe it was because I was walking in the footprints of our old selves
And because maybe they were still laced with magic.
But whatever the case, since last weekend,
I've been feeling Love
Overflowing, overcoming
My heart has been palpitating since Thursday
And it's kind of scaring me, but
Oh it feels good to feel that
It hurt so bad and felt so good to walk in our footprints
And feel the passion again, for the people I love, on the fringes
(I Never forget him)
To remember,
To feel,
...to Care.

And none do I care for more than you
(remember..."more")

Because two years is too many.

Are you friggin kidding me?

Can someone please explain to me why this Caylee Anthony case is still going on? Why her mother is still labeled as a "person of interest"?? For FUCK'S sake! She had a DECOMPOSING BODY in her trunk, and wow the hairs match Caylee's, big shocker, what could that possibly MEAN everybody?!, could it be Caylee after all? - HMMM!!! The mother never even reported her "missing", the grandmother did, she never reacted, she borrows a shovel and steals gas cans, she goes out partying while her daughter is "missing", she didn't want the daughter in the first place, the babysitter's (name) exists but had never seen or heard of the mother, the apartment she supposedly dropped her daughter off had been empty for months and said babysitter had never lived there...why the HELL is this still in the news and why the HELL is it some kind of bizarre mystery??! It's called MURDER. Fry the bitch and let's be done with it. GOD.

Exhale

What a life.

I'm still reeling from this past weekend; I should have written yesterday about it but I was too exhausted to give it justice after only two hours of sleep and then a regular workday. Going to Flag was everything I'd feared and more. There were definite tears and heartbreak.

But through that, a silver lining, and thankfully for all the pain, that's what I remember best. One conversation with a person that I really care about and a moment that has stayed long with me.

I saw Mark too, it was ok, nothing to write home about but it's good to stay in touch. And Peter, my old photo professor. But above all else I know the "reason" I was to go up there, the reason I was being pulled up there by some higher calling beyond just my genuine desire to see it once more before summer leaves and who knows when I can see it again the same...never again this way, I realize now...one perfect summer evening in the perfect haunted town, with the best company that night that I ever could have asked for.

All in all, a great reminder of why I do actually listen to those little voices of intuition that tell me to GO...NOW....

I am quite grateful.

I did it!

I woke today to find an email in my inbox that was as exciting as one's first paycheck when you're 16. Less than one month ago I started this blog as a definitive step towards becoming a writer. When I started it, I *finally* started researching actual writing opportunities on the internet that would actually pay. With a little bit of uncertainty and a dose of skepticism I think deep inside I believed it wasn't actually possible to get paid to write, especially for things on the internet (scam city right?). I think I believed that it had to be a big pain in the rear, finding editors and publishers, sweating through queries and drafts and changes *they* want to make to your writing and your life. And who knows, maybe in the bigger world it still is.

But all I know is that today I got a $50 deposit made to my paypal account, for writing three small articles which did ME the good of having to exercise my mind to try to find that humorous side of me again, work on my brevity, and entertain enough to qualify to be published on this site. $50!! The things I'm willing to do for $50! Short of sleeping til noon, there's pretty much nothing that's easier for me to do for fifty bucks than write.

Technically, I did make my first pay-for-writing a few weeks ago, doing five 500 word articles for an SEO. Took me about an hour writing anything I could come up with on the topic of "Automotive" and an hour later I'd made 25 bucks. That was a really random, super easy job and I hope to get more this month. I guess it didn't seem as gratifying as an accomplishment since it was basically BS stuff just to incorporate the word tags for them, whereas upmyownass.com, despite the unfortunate name, actually required more thought and wit and skill on my part.

I gotta say, although it's not like a novel concept and one that I didn't know would come whenever I did actually put my nose to it, the feeling of getting paid for doing what I do probably second-best (second only to Love, but for that I started getting dividends looooong ago :)) is pretty cool, possibly even addicting. I'd meant to get around to it eventually, and now I guess here we are! Why, I think I'll keep going. :)

The difficulties of a life well-lived

I guess I have to put this in here, why, because it's real. It's stupid and silly and idiotic and I feel dumb, but none of these change the fact...it's real. I'm poised on the edge trying to make a big decision here. It's something I've been kind of torn about all week...excited, yet full of trepidation. Why's it stupid? Because a) it's not a big decision, and b) why the hell should I be scared?

I guess the truth is I know why I should be scared. And I am. I consider myself a generally fearless person, but I won't lie, there is one thing that can usually get me more than anything else if anything is going to. The past. I. LOVE. My past. And as such, it can be very hard to move on. Oh I can do it; fortunately one of the attributes I acquired in my development was adaptability and well-adjustedness...but it only helps so far. I guess one of my other qualities/curses was a deeply ingrained sense of passion and love. A curse, you say? How so, a curse, to love, to be passionate?

You haven't been listening to my last diatribes, have you?

Yes, I embrace the past, present, and future as a trinity more holy to me than any so-named Deity...but I lament each equally as well. I'm a Libra, these things happen. I must be balanced at all costs, to a fault, even against my own conscious will.

What am I on about?

I want to go to Flagstaff. I mean, I AM going to Flagstaff...I'm pretty much positive about it now. I took a half hour to soul-search even after my initial plans fell through and put it in a spin (for being supposedly so balanced, you have to understand, it's a tricky balance, and I can be easily thrown off...but fortunately it's never long before I can rebalance my tipped scales, you see). I decided yes I do want to go still. But yes, I don't want to go every bit as much as I do want to.

I want to go to Casa Bonita, to the Thai place that good god I can't even remember its name now, to north campus, to the Union, to Wilson, to the Com building, to the language building. I want to go downtown and to Uptown Billiards and to the pedway and the bookstore and the mailboxes. But I don't want to. Because I can feel it from here, and it's wrenching. It's the same but it's not the same. It's my life but it's not my life. I'm like a ghost walking through there and I know it already and I hate hate hate hate hate that. YES I've moved on and YES I've done great things and YES I enjoyed it fully WHILE I was there and YES I'm happy now and YES I've got bigger things than EVER just over my horizon...but...I am a ghost who can travel through time, but have not grasped yet how to bring the others with me. I can walk on those same footsteps that were mine, and theirs, and I can already from Tucson feel them, but where are they? Sjoerd, Tina, AJ, Erika, Angie, Jenny, Mark, Laura, Kathryn, John, Keith, Cammy, Mary, Peter, Joseph, Brad...all scattered to the wind. Even those who are still there are not Mine, not as they were. The Scott who remains has evolved in my life just as everything else. Even when we hang out and drink beer together on the river 6 years later and time and interaction must dictate by now that we're true friends...he's still my boss. In my heart, he'll always be my boss. Sjoerd, god, more than across the world...so far away from my LIFE. It's not so bad, mostly, I know that everything went as it should and as it could, but down here it's not so bad...there, it's as if he's in my arms again...I can feel our imprints in the ground. It's an interesting thing, to be able to time-travel interdimensionally, it is, and I guess I'm glad I can do it...but GOD!!

AJ and I walked that pedway, in a different time. Talk about an alternate universe...talk about nothing but a faded memory.

I have to stop. I've cried my way through this post more than I've cried about anything for a very long time. It's getting late and I want to get up there early. I want to be there sucking up every ounce of it I can, for as long as I can. I know it's only torture...but it's a necessary evil for me. It's not closure, I'll never have that so long as I can walk the halls of memory, not with place and not with people. But it's more than nostalgia too, it's necessity. I guess to keep myself connected. It's been a long time since I've felt emotion...I guess it's to keep myself connected to myself.

Shedding the junk!

I am feeling very organized and very liberated tonight. I made AMAZING progress on paring down and organizing all my SHIT. I am so stoked. I feel so free... My goal is to go just above asceticism (by modern American standards) and get down to as few belongings as I can. I want to be free to start from nothing...and stay there. It is so much better weighing less. I am SO CLOSE to being DONE, I can really see it now! And then I'll have so much more time, energy, and focus to think creatively, breathe freely, and think of other things rather than my preoccupation with all the junk that surrounds me. It's time to start cutting ties in a major way to THINGS and make more room for THOUGHTS, and IDEAS, and SPIRITUALITY. How can you think on a higher level when you're bogged down on a physical one? So close now!

Life is good tonight. I really feel like I'm about ready and able to move on, and move forward.

Good day!

Goodbye, journey.

Not that anyone reads this, but on the off-chance someone should stumble upon it, before you judge too harshly...actually, I don't really care if you do or not. I like Dawson's Creek. I would even say, I love Dawson's Creek. I have ever since its first episode, when I would watch it in the extra bedroom of the house on 72nd Drive. When I would tape it religiously on some ancient Kodak VHS tapes, now more obsolete than Discmans or hand-written letters.

But in the past oh year and nine months (to the day, incidentally, happy anniversary to the mister), my beloved show has taken on an even greater, deeper, and more cherished meaning. I'll never forget how I told him that I'd liked the show, and not long after he'd scored the first couple discs of the series for me (maybe or maybe not or maybe through unscrupulous means, since I had an equal loathe for buying DVDs at their exorbitant prices as I did love for the show contained within), and we embarked on a many-month long quest, voyage, and journey deep into not only the show, but into our histories, our past, and each other.

Maybe it sounds cheesy, fine. But I will always remember so fondly going through this tv show series with him...for the first time I'd ever seen all the episodes (I stopped watching after it got seriously lame in the third or fourth season), let alone all back to back, all the nights on the couch cuddled up alone in the house, through the summers and the winter, or the nights with Melissa right there raiding on her computer, the times we'd sit down with dinner and see where it was going to take us next and what over-done drama or awfully-familiar scenes might play out that night. It's the first time I've ever watched a series like that, all the way through, especially one so close to my heart with old familiar and well-loved faces (especially since I was NEVER one to get into tv in that way), and by the end of it, remembering all the things that happened has a definite nostalgic air to it as reminiscing over my own life.

And I'm not talking just the good episodes, of which there were many. I'm also talking about the GOD AWFUL NOT ANOTHER ONE LIKE THIS ones...of which there were plenty (though thankfully after a rough go of it, season three or four or whatever it is did jerk into a haltingly better phase, and then managed to pull back out of it - it was never the same, of course, but it was still Dawson's. What can I say.).

Anyway, I just felt the need to say goodbye, to the show, which even though it ended some 5 years ago, is only now ending for me, but more importantly, to this really truly FUN time that Ray and I have shared for the past almost two years by sharing it between us, almost exclusively. It was our little thing. Our little guilty pleasure, that we'd never want the guys at hockey to know about, but that we'd never want to abandon. I am so sorry and sad to see it go, not just because the story is over, but because these little shared moments of this chapter are as well. I mean, such is life, and it's not like "the end of the world" or anything, but does it really have to be in order to deserve some pause and reverence? We'll go on now, to perhaps one of his sci-fi shows which I'm probably as averse to watching as he initially was when I uttered the two words that can be spoken by your female counterpart "Dawson's Creek" preceded by "Honey, let's watch..." which are almost as feared by the modern male as those other two words completing that phrase: "The Notebook".

There will be more stories, and more chapters, and more time spent together, in front of the screen, and out in real life. I am excited for the things to come, the things that are, and of course, as always...for those things that have been.

Goodbye, Dawson's...

And happy 17th, Diggity.

SWEET Animation Festival!

Ray and I just got in from an awesome animation show at The Loft! Man that place is the coolest...they've always got the craziest, most obscure, indie stuff. This one was called, er, "The Animation Show". I wanted to put in here for posterity the films that were in there that I can remember. It was like a dose of speed into your veins, there were a TON of films in like an hour and a half.

Show Opener: Joel Trussell - The Old People on the Cruise Ship Going Death Metal opener

The Life and Times of Tim/The Angry Unpaid Hooker: Steve Dildarian

Operator: Matthew Walker - calling God while eating a toffee apple and asking why he can't lick his elbow

Voodoo: Gobelins School of Animation - explorers get blasted to sea and eaten when they try to blast open an old ruin

Blind Spot: Gobelins School of Animation - an old woman is blamed for a hold-up gone awry because the videocamera missed the assailant the whole time

Burning Safari: Gobelins School of Animation - robot takes picture of monkey and monkey freaks out

Cocotteminute: Gobelins School of Animation - the racing kitchen chicken opener from Annecy (!!! :)) 2006

Hot dog: Bill Plympton - the little dog that tried to be a fire dog

This Way Up: Smith & Foulkes - two undertakers who try to deliver a coffin when their hearse is squashed by a giant boulder

Western Spaghetti: PES - one of the coolest, wackiest stop-films I've seen, using Pick-Up sticks for spaghetti (which come out as rubberbands), rubics cubes and dice chopped up, foil for oil, tomato pincushions squashed for tomato sauce...very cool

(3) Psychotown: Aussie Dave Carter - paper cut-out guys and their shenanigans...the Oranges game, a psychiatrist session, and staging a coup using the government's army against them

Lovesport Paintballing: Grant Orchard - crazy computer-like game of paintballing where the paint can ultimately annihilates everyone then feeling dismayed shoots himself only for everyone else to get up after the fact

Jeu: Georges Schwizgebel - neither Ray nor I liked this one; way too much going on with the animation constantly turning into something else, made our heads hurt

Speaking of Ray...Raymond: BIF Productions - scientists develop drops to stimulate certain actions and dropping them on Raymond's head stimulate him to do some very strange things...it wasn't one of my favorites yet I probably laughed the hardest on this one

Key Lime Pie: Trevor Jimenez - bizarre spy-type flick, I guess film noir genre, about yes, Key Lime Pie

Prof Nieto Show: Nieto - wtf, beetles for a group of scientist students, a monkey, and beetles that play soccer...a fly pulls a red card...just...wtf

(3) Yompi: Corky Quakenbush - definitely not a fan, could live without this being in existence at all...Yompi this creature thing with a dung-like swirl on his head looks sweet then bites your crotch. And that's it. Ok.

(2) Usavich: Satoshi Tomioka - not too sure about these; first the driver's not paying attention on a cliff road and hijinx ensue, in the second it's about the combined sound effects of the road. Weird characters made for a weird viewing experience.

Lastly mine and Ray's two content-favorites:
Mr. Schwartz, Mr. Hazen & Mr. Horlocker: Stefan Mueller - one of the best drug trip portrayals I've ever seen, and a pretty unique take on a film and pov. The neighbor calls the cops on loud music, and between the man being dominated in one apt, and the drug lab in the second, somehow between here and there Mr. First Neighbor ends up with a tab of acid in his coffee and the cop is like wtF is going on with you people??

And the one that takes the cheese:
John and Karen: Matthew Walker - polar bear and penguin. Very simple but very awesome. These animation festivals are so crazy.


Holy god, that's 25 films. No wonder we felt exhausted afterward - but happy! We might even go again this week to see it, even though it doesn't even start til 10p. Anyway that list wasn't meant to be a comprehensive review just a bit to jog my memory in the future. It was an awesome time, and fun to think back on all the fun events we've been to just in the past few months: tonight was the animation festival, Tuesday we went and saw Mongol (cool flick about the rise of Ghengis Khan), the Poetry Slam, the LunaFest women's film festival, the outdoor film festival, the Aloha festival, the Short Film Fest...and there's always so many more things going on! We veered away from them for awhile to build up the savings but I think it's time to jump back into whatever we can and enjoy it. :)

Tonight was definitely a great start!

:) :) :)

Choices

The decision of how and where to allocate one's time is an important one for me. Not only do I feel that precious ticking clock of life, but I truly enjoy every moment I'm in, engaged in whatever it is I'm doing. Yes, even in the worst of times, the times when I bitch. It's not the same as not enjoying it; it's experiencing it, life, for all it is - good AND imperfect.

It's been hard to restrain myself/ourselves from booking another cruise, especially to celebrate our two-year anniversary coming up. It was becoming what we *do*, to celebrate and commemorate the occasion, having gone for the one-year mark, and then the one and half one. But we've been trying hard to save money, like, a lot of money, and that was one choice we had to make, to forgo it for this time around, in the interest of bigger and other things a little further up the road.

It's been hard to restrain from paying half of Sjoerd's airplane ticket to bring him out here. Relational implications notwithstanding, even if those were to be fully ironed out or anyway suspended for the sake of playing it by ear which sometimes you have to do, at the end of those decisions there's still that pricetag anyway.

But I guess one restraint you can't really argue against is that of time in an hour glass. While I can never be guaranteed that I will/Ray and I will have another chance to go on a cruise, or that I will be able to see and spend time with Sjoerd again...chances are much in my favor that I will do both, and almost inevitably. And they are both timeless things, things which can be done at any point in my life and be just as sweet and every bit as timely as now - maybe even moreso (all kinks considered).

There is one argument for my time though, that I'm realizing with the passing days does demand more immediate and definitive action. Mom's been gone to Idaho for 7 1/2 months and has wanted me the whole time to come and see her new life up there. Garrett and Sam, the little cousins, who bless their hearts are apparently enamored with their big cousin (me), aren't so little and aren't going to be getting any littler, and while I anxiously and eagerly await the day they're older so I can better relate to them...these days when they are this age, I KNOW how impressionable they are and how much every little thing means to them. Hell that's exactly what my past three entries were about, ironically. I found Mark the cook from the camp I attended when I was their age (right smack between their two ages, at 12) and my heart skipped a beat, even now at 25. Steve, a counselor from that same camp, with whom I've recently reconnected thru Facebook sent me a little message yesterday and it still means as much to me that he thought of me as it did when I was that age, and received a postcard from him one of those long, hot, boring summer days when I was 12 and the world I had at my fingertips consisted only of that hopeful march to the mailbox everyday, hoping one of my camp counselors had written me. Because they were so big, and amazing, and...wow, 25!!! And they cared about ME?

You'd think that sort of thing, that novelty would wear off with age, right? It does, sort of. I'm not that amazed when someone 35, ten years my senior now, pays attention to me now. Yet the novelty of the people who did when I was that age, when I was 12 and they were (wow!) 22, or 30, or even 19...would you believe, I still sort of feel that residual awe of them. And I'm not one to get star-struck. But, it mattered, they made a crucial difference in my life, at a time when it was most emotionally and developmentally important to me to know that big people paid attention, they wanted to spend time with me, they cared. I think maybe what made their impact so resounding to me was that quietly, subtly, just by being around and taking just that extra modicum of interest, that extra step of sending a postcard or a letter, they were instilling in me an equally quiet and subtle yet a profound sense of self-worth.

In fact, now that I think about it, it didn't even stop at 12. Also through that modern miracle called Facebook, I recently got in touch with my old hockey coach. I've played on a lot of teams in the past 10+ years of my hockey career, but he was the one and only coach who was a true coach, a true leader, a true mentor. I was 16-17 when I played for him, going into college the following year, practically an adult, right? Yet I realize now he still had that same similar sort of impact? And besides despite all opposition, the loud internal one inside myself that was constantly feeling the awareness that as a girl on an boys' checking team I just couldn't compete as well as the latent outer one of those said boys feeling the same way about me, what do I remember about my coach but that he made me an assistant captain for that team. It crosses my mind now as I write about it that I suppose maybe it could have been politically motivated. Good PR, right, to have the girl as a christened leader of the team. Except I don't really doubt his intentions. Because I remember the reason he gave me that position...he said I had heart. And because he said so, I chose to live up to it, as best I could.

Time spent makes a difference, especially when it's at crucial junctures in peoples' lives. I've got big plans boiling to be leaving the state, the country, the continent for perhaps a matter of years, and as mom settles into her retirement in her little senior living community, I have to start facing the reality that time is ticking down. And if I'm not going to be around for all of it later, I oughta at least give not only them, but myself, the time to enjoy some time spent together now. Similarly, my grandparents are right there with her, grandparents that I grew up with as a permanent fixture at the holiday and birthday tables, up until they up and left just preceding mom. Grandpa's 83 and while because of his good health and mental acuity I find it hard to conceive of the age for what it means for normal geriatrics, well, my paternal grandparents made a good case for how quickly things change when they do change, as after 90-some years of being there, the one year I leave to Italy for 8 months, I forfeit the chance to see them ever again. And the boys...well...I know I've got something special with them, and not all of life's lessons of "Do this while you can" are borne of the fear of loss to death. Perhaps some of the most important ones are the ones that say it because things don't stay this way forever, and this is your biggest and best chance to make that lasting difference, that impact that will stay with them until they are teens, twenties, and beyond.

I don't know if they did the same for me as intentionally and purposefully, but I can imagine on some level at least they must have. So, Mark (Coach), Steve, Kevin, since I know you have access and may actually read this, a direct thank you to you. Know that if you wanted to make a difference by coaching high school hockey, working at a summer camp, and returning the letter of a little 8th grader who wrote to a nameless, faceless stranger in a letter addressed to "Any Service Person" and was one of the only ones who did to our class of 90 little kids who all did the same thing I did...if you wanted to make a difference, you did. And you still do, so don't stop, ever. I'm bigger now, and I've done a lot of big things with my life, and will continue to do so. But I still appreciate you just as much, and need you just as much, in that way that all people need each other regardless of how in touch any of us are with that fact or not - to become better, more aware, more complete and confident people.

To my other friends, who are out there working as teachers, as volunteers, as anyone who is truly hoping to CONNECT on the individual level and effect change for the better, keep on. The ripple effect is true...those people I just mentioned (and many others I didn't but are in between the lines anyway) and I are testaments to that. And as proof, I'm going to spend my time and money not on a cruise this time, but to go see my little cousins, and my mom, and my grandparents, and pay homage to that older generation while nurturing the next one, just as was done for me.

You make a difference.

Ten Minutes: NAU pangs

I felt it tonight at the gym. Oddly, it was something as simple as standing in line for the water fountain, the backs of two college- or my- aged guys getting their drinks. The familiar long shorts and tshirts, and I felt it suddenly, how much I miss that old life.

I missed riding my bike to French class, or walking to History. I miss the activity always going on around you, free for you to take part in or hide out from. I miss hiding out from my life some nights in my room, when I was an RA and had endless tasks and responsibilities and could-be-doings, and the reprieve I would get from closing my door, turning off the light, and writing to get away from it for just a spell if I needed to.

I miss getting food from the Union, meeting with friends for a meal, the beautiful weather. I miss meeting new people in class and having so many different people my age to look at, puzzle over, be interested about. I miss professors and connecting with them. I miss my friends.

I miss my long and late night conversations with Thom, and figuring out the world, and taking it by storm. I miss working my way into new peoples' hearts, and road trips, and having all those great experiences that make me smile now to think back on. I still have those, of course...moments like that. But I do miss the setting being Flagstaff.

College was so much fun...if I only could have understood fully what it was to have all the different resources there and available - a gym right there; food right there; so many people and experiences, just RIGHT there. I miss the people...I miss being surrounded by people. It's not the same being in the "real" world, real meaning outside of communal living. I LOVED communal living. If I had the chance to live in a dorm right now I'd take it in a heartbeat. I will enjoy being on the road again and frequenting the hostels; I only hope I will again settle in one for a semi-long term like I got to in Queenstown. I love community, and the constant air of opportunity that envelops it.

But even with all these "I misses" pouring out, I can feel the moment is gone. I hate pangs. I love them a tiny bit because it's like it takes you back, to RIGHT THERE, in the moment you have it. But they're so painful for just that reason...it's so intense and so vibrant and so real...and then it's gone, and you know those moments are gone for good. It's like having a dream, only like a shot of a dream into your vein, you know those dreams where you see someone you haven't seen for a long time and it actually feels like it was good to see them when you wake up. It hurt, even as I was having it, but at the same time, god it was so good to stand on that pedway again.

I guess it's a fair enough price to pay for such things to have, at one time, been my reality. I am grateful for that much.

word count: 542

Ten Minutes Scratched - Childhood poem...SOLVED?

And just like that, if you hold it in your mind, it was just as he said, the messiah...you bring to you the things you wish for. But oh I know I wished for you then, much more fervently than I've wished for you now, just now. 14 years down the line and I knew it had been that long, and I know that if you were 30 to begin with, you could only be 44 now, but in my mind you'd stayed that youthful man, that mystery...but I've found you, haven't I? In those places where I've searched before, this wasn't the first time but this was the first time you were THERE.

And 44. And here. And I could see you again, then, after all this time, after all.

And who says life isn't magical. Who says your heart can't pound over a stranger, over a dream, over a figment of your imagination, over something that was never real, but something that changed everything at your young age. Who says that those changes don't resonate into the ages of "reason", where you have to congratulate yourself for simply not clawing at the walls...

You're there. I'm certain it's you. It must be you. These things can't happen. You're not supposed to meet a dream, face to face, no matter how much you long for it, no matter for how long. It's like traveling back in time, it just messes with the line of normal continuity, it messes with the lines of love and loves that make sense, that have reason, that have normalcy, that...but no matter. I have grown but I haven't outgrown. Anyone who knows me, knows that I know love without bounds (sometimes to their great challenge)... that dream, that image, it was never real, but it was always real...because it got me through my childhood when you're not even supposed to know about those concepts because it would drive a child mad, and it would have.

But I could write it out.

I could write the madness out.

I could write the love out.

I learned to write it, so I learned to see it, so I learned to know it, so I learned to feel it, so I learned to believe it, so I learned to share it, so I learned to live it, so I learned to believe in it, so I learned to NEVER STOP. And I never did stop, because of you, in a way.

But now to face the dream in its hard copy reality? Not a name, but a face? I've always known your name, still carry it on the tip of my tongue, in the tips of my fingers, always poised to type it in to try just that one last time to find you, and tonight that one search entered as irony, yielded a result, and it was you. In the flesh and blood. 44. You.

And in PHOENIX.

Two hours away. The entire fabric of my metaphysical existence, manifest in one name that belonged to one fantasy of a life without borders and a love without limits and without reason and without needing one; one name that belonged to a real man all that time after all, one who brought me a cd player and two cds - Counting Crows and Alanis Morrissette when I was sick and needed a friend and you stepped out of your cabin and into my dreams everlasting, to become that practical stranger that became an unlikely friend. Did you ever know how you would resonate? Did you ever know how many lives your act would go on to touch, through me? Ask the people I have known how deeply I have loved them, how much they have felt love through me. They are everywhere. They are in France, England, the Netherlands, New Zealand, Ireland, Malta, Finland, Scotland, Australia, Japan, America. They are everyone everybody would expect me to love, and they are the ones that no one would have thought that I would love. But by and large, no matter who they are or who they were, I did love them, and I still do. Because of you, I am someone who learned how to love a stranger early on, and one of the lucky few, who never learned to stop.

Do you remember me, Stranger? Because I still remember you.

Mark...

Because I don't suppose I want to fill this thing with ten minute bouts of nothingness, really

Eh exercises are ok, and I suppose it's good to at least be thinking about and even attempting a sharpening of the mind. But let's be honest, my forte is expository; and my only authority, over myself. So let's purge.

One thing I've noticed since starting this thing a little over a week ago is WOW. Nobody on Facebook CARES! I've made a pretty definitive swoop from MySpace to Facebook, and if you're thinking wow six lines into this and she's already a complete nerdazoid, stop to consider. Being in an internet shop in the middle of Queenstown in the middle of winter in the middle of the South Pacific (ok, bottom of it, anyway), MySpace was my only connection to the outer world. You know..."friends".

Friends other than the ones I lived with in the hostel, the ones that I'd come to live with, laugh with, love, only to (and knowingly) have them blow away, scatter to the four winds at season's end. And now, them having done so, now the only - let's be realistic - way to keep in touch now, one of these two sites.

Indeed, that's a big reason I made the switch. For some reason in my circles, the big F hit the tipping point over the big MyS, and said blown friends are shown here in abundance.

But sadly, what I've found, is that where in the MySpace blogging world, that little hole from which I'd carve my little niche and ultimately label it my quiet and unassuming yet impassioned life, where on the Other site, people would emerge from the woodwork in most unexpected ways, not only to read but to respond to my words...despite no announcement of a posting on MySpace but stalker-like fanfare to all reaches of one's social web on this one, almost no one can be bothered here. My two cousins whom I barely know (but am glad for the chance to start at least) have acknowledged me and an oooold friend from HS dropped a lifeline. But it's not been anything like the interaction and feedback I enjoyed on the other site. For a foray into the public sphere, so far a week into it, it hasn't been terribly encouraging.

So where's the waste? Is it in my subject matter? The format? For sure brevity has been my bane on Facebook...I've been painstakingly sharing a close-to-the-heart tale with the subject of the story for the past WEEKS now, because Facebook has this way of making two paragraphs of a Word doc appear as 2 pages of a dried out textbook. Ever tried to copy 38 pages 8 lines at a time and tried to do a good story justice?

Well, whatever. Tomorrow's another day and another and another, and at least I'm not clawing at the walls anymore. Funny to feel like you're marching in place looking to the horizon knowing you're only living today for tomorrow, mostly, and yet knowing that it all goes too fast. At least I'm not climbing the walls...not climbing the walls...not clawing down the walls...

For now if I'm blessed with/cursed with an audience so vast that all of this is lost in the shuffle then I suppose eventually it will give me license to dream with an open hand; knowing that all of it could be read and none of it will be, or that none of it will be but then all of it is...well it makes you wonder how to present yourself, and how to live your life accordingly if you're going to have to answer for it later on, with or without that cloak of anonymity. I wonder why more people don't do this public reflection thing.

I wonder if more people would want to.

Are you out there?, I wonder...