The kwammunist

The boys get here in a few hours. I can't explain how good it feels to know that after almost 5 years out on the left, the crazy ass nyc kids still keep visiting. It says so much to me about friendship and connection and most importantly, family. Because the peeps are my family. Always have been, always will. I wouldn't be here or anywhere if I didn't have such an awe inspiring group to feel protected and loved by.

On the way to the treehouses a few weeks ago, I was telling Mary that I remember the first time I met almost all of my current friends. I remember a lot, but first meetings in detail, not always. Yet, I do remember the first time I met everyone I consider family. I didn't know we would be friends. Hell, some of them, I didn't even like. But something about our meeting lodged itself into my brain and stayed there. In some cases, I even remember the moment I knew we would always be friends.

The first time I met Kwame, I was 22 years old. And he made me cry. I had gone with other friends, long gone in my world now, to see Kwame's band. And Kwame looked like a long lost friend, even down to the Seahawks shirt. The only difference being Kwame played guitar and Mosley played bass. And the music was amazing and brought me back to a place I missed. And I cried. I'm sure he thought I was crazy (I know he still thinks I'm crazy) when Ezra introduced us and I still had tears in my eyes. And there it was. We started seeing each other around and gradually became more than acquaintances, not truly friends yet. But, I always felt connected to him. And he always made me laugh. When he called me on my 25th birthday, to try and coax me from my studies and celebrate, I knew. I knew we had passed into a new phase. It's been 12 years since we first met, and our friendship has been through many phases, incarnations of another band or two, but I know he will always be there if I really need him. Case in point, 6 hours after finding out that Miguel cheated on me, Kwame appeared on my doorstep. 3000 miles away. I can't even begin to know what those days would have looked like without Kwame there to support me.

next up: the husband.

Hurry Up Please It's Time

'My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me.
'Speak to me. Why do you never speak? Speak.
'What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?
'I never know what you are thinking. Think.'

I've had bits of "The Waste Land" rattling around in my head today. Not sure why. It feels like I am being admonished by my brain for not reading as much as I used to, for not reading enough poetry lately, for not thinking deeply enough. Or maybe it is a new form of procrastination? Perhaps I won't notice I haven't written my paper on Autism if I am rereading poems of my youth and researching references? Seems to be working. Still no paper written, but several critical analyses of The Journey of the Magi and Anne Sexton's "Hurry Up Please it's Time"read.

I used to think that the line, "Hurry Up Please It's Time", from Part II of "the Wasteland" was so haunting, as if the speaker were invoking death. I chanted it as a mantra throughout high school. It wasn't until college that I found out the reference refers to the closing call at British pubs. So much nicer than the calls here, which usually go something like, "finish your fucking drink and get the fuck out". Don't you think?

more inbox poetry

come over please
you just can't go around petting babies
i will never eat anything purple again, just to be safe, not even skittles
and by serial killer, i mean 5 cat having anal freak
so, the moral of the story is, never try.

Our rhymes are so bionic

can someone PLEASE tell this talentless hack that she will NEVER be these ladies?

JJ Fad - Supersonic

glitter. rinse. repeat.

treehouse - I'm from barcelona



Misty and Kevin got mawwied! Among the treehouses. It was undeniably one of the best weekends of my life. Watching a couple you love so much and know are so right for one another is amazing. And getting to be part of "bridesmaids" hula-hooping with full bottles of champagne under the stars is magical. My jaw and abs still hurt from laughing. I'll post pictures later.

borrowing

I'm stealing this from Charles. Go read him, he's much more eloquent. And he has a heart to match no other. It sums up how I felt at the time he wrote it.* And how I hope to feel always. Much love.

"And we're here and fucking vibrant as hell despite the shakes. the stunted wondering how the fuck it is that we've come this long and no one dares call it in anymore. not that we ever did (though i might have once or twice). nor that we ever will as our long teeth approach. as our hair grows thin and our pants fall short.

Because this is fucking friendship.

This is fucking kin.

Perfect miscreants stumbling in and out of the shadows screaming something about beer and tits. firestorms. love and controversy.

And i'm better than ever in the thick of it."

*I was going to post this before the treehouses, but didn't. Because I knew it would sum up this weekend perfectly as well. And probably many others. I am SO lucky.

Swiss Family Robinson style

I get to go here in two days.

I know I come off as super debbie downer alot on this blog, but my life is usually fantastic. and I appreciate all of you who contribute to that!

so, I'm not even going to lament the cancellation of halloween in quinault, my brother's dog's death, or my postponed haiti trip. Or I am, but I'm going to remark that life is give and take.

And then, I'm going to go reread "The Alchemist"

For every door closing, there is a treehouse waiting.

Let's go dancing in the light

The harvest moon is tomorrow (Friday, October 6th). I love full moons in general, but I am constantly in awe of the harvest moon. Since moving to Portland, I’ve been amazed at the views I’ve had of it. Two years ago, on Hawthorne, buying costumes for Halloween, I stopped along with everyone else on the street to look at the most beautiful, low, pink/orange moon. A rare time when strangers all share a moment of beauty.

I recently bought a woodcut moon tarot card from an artist friend. I bought it because I feel affinity to the moon, and because I really liked his interpretation. I don’t know much about tarot, but I liked this description of the moon card from wikipedia:

"Have you ever lost the familiar to find, in its place, a world so extraordinary you can't even grasp it? This is the experience of the Moon.

Most of the time we live in a tiny pocket of normality that we wrap around us like a security blanket. We turn our backs on the mysterious universe that waits outside. From time to time we may sneak a peak with our imagination, or venture out through fantasy or expanded awareness. We can be thrust out there unprepared through drugs, madness or intense experiences such as battle.

The Moon is the light of this realm - the world of shadow and night. Although this place is awesome, it does not have to be frightening. In the right circumstances, the Moon inspires and enchants. It holds out the promise that all you imagine can be yours. The Moon guides you to the unknown so you can allow the unusual into your life."

Go out and experience the extradordinary...

only 22 more days

I just found out that the husband and kwame are coming West to Halloween! 200 peeps in the lodge in the woods! I heart the holidays!

We are all connected by glitter

“Does anyone have any extra glitter? Mine’s up the hill, in my tent.”
“Of course, it’s always in my bag.”
And that’s how I met Orange. Who couldn’t have a crush on a boy who carries glitter at all times?
Our relationship may have been many things, but it was always sparkly.
I just received a belated birthday gift from him in the mail. Beautiful woodcut Asian cloud prints for my room. Accompanied by a mylar and glitter card, wishing me sunshine and love.

The beautiful thing about glitter is that it stays on, even when you cry.