just a face. split lip. midday.

turning pages, seeking solace in white space.

my ears plugged, my head is buried, with my heart,

under dust under glass under ground.

magnolias

racing rainclouds to stan getz.

we haven't purchased any cheddar in quite a while.

01.03.11 afternoon

locker romance. earl grey. heavy daydreams.

28.02.11

post yoga haze. cereal in bed. vhs.

song without a hand

if i knew the way

to keep

you safe

from

your self

we'd walk on and never speak of such dark days

perpetuate.

From behind the counter...

I noticed her when she walked in, staring at the menu with ankles crossed and knees locked, wavering just a little. She was folding the bill in her hands over and over, tilting her head. It was hard for me to tell just how old she was. I'm guessing anywhere from nine to thirteen. Obviously starting to have a changing body, but her round little girl face betrayed the process. A woman that seemed to be her mother walked in, giving her something like a coupon, and they had this lovely little smile and hug. The warmth between them was pretty cute. I stopped paying attention to them at this point because they weren't quite ready to order, so I was basically just staring.

At some point, the whole family came in to the shop and ordered some drinks. The girl ordered some big blended thing with whipped cream (of course she did, she's a little girl!). When she scooted up to the counter to pick up her treat, her dad yells, "How many calories are in THAT thing!?" He's obviously joking. Poking fun. Being that goofy Dad. His daughter gasped, went after him playfully, smacking at his arms and saying, "You shut your mouth!" I could tell this was a regular exchange. But when she returned to actually pick up her cup, her demeanor had changed. She wasn't excited for it anymore. She was self conscious, head down, sheepish.

This man has no idea what he's doing, and in all likelihood, neither does his daughter. Women (and men) have and will continue to grow up fighting all varieties of social norms. A quote I read yesterday: "Be aware of and challenge the cultural messages that harm you in order to embrace the ones that heal and sustain." But I feel like this should be extended. We should be aware of the cultural, social, and familial messages that harm us. We should be aware of the things we say to our children. The things we say to our friends. We need to support each other, promote each other, instead of put boxes around each other.

[Quote from http://www.huffingtonpost.com/jane-shure/natalie-portmans-black-sw_b_807152.html]

i'm fooled

for sunshine

for shadows are lain

in my peripheral

my hair tightens

away from the world

wrapping into itself

my fingers can't pull it apart.

my mind will not quiet.

my heart beats irregular.

3:33

i've been missing you, reading our conversations, our emails, i found a card with your note, your handwriting brings me to tears.

on humanity. maybe this should be 2 separate posts.

Somehow while I was gone, I forgot that people are capable of being really awful because they think the world owes them something. I am nodding at retail service for reminding me of this fact. However, on the flip-side, so many of my regulars are responding to my being back at work. The reactions range from total and utter lack of realization that someone they see every morning was gone, to a look of confused recognition at the sight of my smile, to a hug and exclamation, "WHERE have you been?" Some of these people knew I would be gone for two months, but I wasn't able (nor did I want to) let everyone know I was leaving. I never wanted to assume that my lack of presence would be noticed, let alone missed. It made a difference in my day to have people notice I was gone, warmed the heart so to speak, and melted off the frigid attitudes of disgruntled strangers.

We experienced so much hospitality on our trip. The first city we stayed in after leaving Portland and traveling down the Rockies was Missoula, MT. Our Portland friend from MT, Craig, simply stated, "I'll make some phone calls, I'll hook you up." A few days before arriving in Missoula we had Mike's phone number. We met at his apartment, he took us to a good spot for a couple of amazing pints and dinner and let us sleep at his house. We'd never met before, and I don't know if we'll see this guy again, but we had a great time.

This happened over and over again. Missoula, Minneapolis, Wonder Lake (IL), Warren (VT), Quebec, Boston, Brooklyn, Philadelphia, Charleston, DC, Atlanta, Austin, Oklahoma City, Albuquerque, Boulder. Nearly every city we stayed in, someone extended a hand, a beer, a couch, a key, a meal, a kindness. Strangers helped us parallel park, gave us directions. A Coney Island employee gave me a quarter for my smashed penny. A new friend gave us his apartment key because I was sick. Someone cooked us stew. A musician cut us a deal on t-shirts because we were short a few Canadian dollars. A friend let us sleep in his shared skate warehouse. Someone's mom sent us away with a baggy of chocolate chip cookies. My aunt cooked us waffles. Ben's mom nearly force fed us and made me take a jacuzzi bath in her new house. I found myself wanting to spread this around, wanting to offer a bit of my whisky to every old guy in the next campsite.

I'm thankful for being reminded that despite cold hearts, overall, people are still, can be, awesome. In light of current situations, police and politics, etc, I realize that obviously, people can't be all good. Shit ain't sunshine and roses. People die. People go without. Policies are purchased. Hearts get broken and people go wandering through the night without a hand to reach for.

I. am. lucky.

I'm failing at blog writing.

We're busy. I drive a fair bit. I find that when I have time to sit and write, nothing comes.

Bits and pieces of the passing hours. Iklings of thoughts that occur with passing road signs and reflective strips on the highway.

In South Dakota, crossing highway 90, we count frogs hopping the lanes. It is like Frogger in real life. Their smashed little carcasses pepper the asphalt, flattened and grey. We route for the ones who venture in front of our wheels. Mourning the ones I'm certain we don't miss.

time: 12:35am

87,435 miles on the odometer.

alarm set for 7:30am

miles set for tomorrow: approx. 383

the plan: wake, shower, breakfast, GO!

Androgyny

[finally!!!]

There she be! There he be?

While we can't decide on the gender identification of my new truck... we are admiring it!! Now for insurance, registration and title transfer, cleaning up a few loose ends and we'll be ready to go!

de ja vu again

i didn't need a guardian angel.

i miss my friend.