Tuesday, January 3, 2012

texas and the mutually assured destruction of inner peace, part I

how is modern man supposed to stay in one place
when each relic of some remembered past is dutifully destroyed
and they mock our nostalgic hearts with words like progress and enterprise
how can they expect us to stay still

the vagabond is a threat to commitment-based morality
committee members say drinking venti nonfat iced cappuccinos
so excuse me please if this doesn't seem like a decent home anymore
I'd rather move forever than stay in just one place

does that make me a vagrant?
does that make me the cunning insurgent of your precious community
spreading grime and crime and new-age ideals
like peace and homosexuality

I've never been stuck in my life, and this is no exception
once this stretch of highway's over I'm on the first plane trans-atlantic
and even though my favorite songs were written in best friend's living rooms
getting lost is the one true freedom I reserve

the vagabond is a threat to landed homogeneity
the church ladies shake their heads
as we walk anonymous through their streets
I'd rather make your acquaintance than to have known you since I was three

does that make me a vagrant?
does that make me the cunning insurgent of your precious community
spreading grime and crime and new-age ideals
like peace and homosexuality


Tuesday, December 13, 2011

at end of a journey, with hope and love, we go

I left San Marcos on August 11th. Left a brother and a sister-in-law, left friends, left a boyfriend. I've spent a lot of time thinking about those people, and what role in my life they have played, and who I am now in relation to our lives together.

I wasn't happy when I left Texas. I wasn't where I wanted to be emotionally and spiritually. I had been lost, fighting with myself for a whole summer before the time finally came for me to go.
I went early. I went by myself.

I have found love here in art supplies and guitar lessons, in conversations about life and the world and who we ought to be in the middle of it all, late-night ice cream runs to talk about cutie pies and the places we came from..

And I feel so much more empowered, because I have been shown that all of who I am is important, not just the 'cool' non-embarrassing parts.
Because someone will think that even those things are cool.

Because someone can love the girl who plays Pokemon Blue on her 14-year-old Gameboy color when she feels anxious or depressed.
Someone can love the girl who wants to swap comic books and then talk about them later.
Someone can love the girl collects monocles and maple leaves.
Someone can love the girl who would rather play drunk Scrabble than beer pong, and watch B Sci-Fi horror films and make up life stories about the people walking down the street.
Someone can love the girl that doesn't want or need to end every night drunk or stoned.

And I feel so happy to be aware of the truth in that, and to know that even temporary things can remind you of how wonderful it is to be alive, and that every pretty word in the world is nothing beside a single genuine statement.

Even as the clouds move, the sky remains the same as ever. I will not forget either. I am glad we met.

My time here is coming to an end, but I will always love the people I have known here, and one day I will delight in our paths crossing again.

But for now, there are some things that I must do. My life turns around right now. This is where everything gets better. It has already begun.

Thursday, December 1, 2011

if you ever wanted words like flying

let's jump off of things together.

I want nothing more in the world than to jump off of many things with you.


In the back of an old school bus painted sunflowers on the side
it is never and always raining inside and out of here
and if happiness is the last truth, let this be a long night ahead
keep us awake, keep us warm, keep us together

if I never told you how I felt about leaving Los Angeles, here it is
a cold-hearted, able-bodied reminder of my past
I gave it a necessary burial, finally, seven years after leaving
and I have no plans to ever go back

And you, swimming in oceans warmer and clearer than the ones I had known
singing songs about the world as it could be while I was stuck in what Is
to free ourselves is a bloody knife and we are all killers
vultures circle miles above us, if you want to think of it that way

I never remember the plans I made in years passed, the little things
like making marshmallows and cleaning out the neglected garden spaces
I never could care about just one thing at a time--
ashes of old notebooks sit in urns along my mantle

Monday, November 14, 2011

Streetlight Manifesto, Cat Party, the Future

So you were born! and it was a good day
someday you'll die, and that's a shame
but somewhere in the between you live the life of which we all dream
and nothing and no one can ever take that away

Somewhere in the Between by Streetlight Manifesto is, has been, and will continue to be a song very close to my heart, because everyone has one or two ska songs that never stop being important. Beyond the Fuck the System and the No One Else Matters Because We Get Each Other and all that other punk rock business. I don't know. It is what it is.
I'm learning to play this song on my guitar, and I promise I will try to play it at Open Mic before I leave Oregon. I will I will I will. Okay.


It is hard sometimes, you know. I struggle against feeling alone, sometimes. I struggle against feeling like I am struggling. I love everyone here, I love them dearly. I am just tired, and I have been far from home for awhile now, and I know I am not quite done with Texas yet. I forget myself. I always seem to forget.

But I had a good time yesterday. We were all cats for a cat party. Whiskers grease-painted, ears and tails sewn and safety-pinned. We listened to bands with stand-up bass and beautiful boys and girls saying You Don't Have to Know How to Party; We Will Show You. I make the promise But I Will Come Back quite often, always right after saying that I am leaving in a month's time. Time moves slowly here but days go by fast, somehow, so I feel like Tuesday just happened but October was months ago. I feel like I've been here a long time.

"I Don't Know If I'll Be Back This Time" by Sea Wolf plays on Banshee, my version of iTunes (Zorin/Ubuntu OS), and then "Those To Come" by The Shins. They all make my heart ache from the nostalgia of what they mean to me.

I am very thankful that George is here with me. I think I would not be nearly as sane without him to cuddle up with. Sleeping alone became strange and unfamiliar to me, and unwelcome. He makes it easier. We care about each other very much.

My new thoughts about my life involve moving to France at the end of this summer. I graduate May 12th and would like to end up in France by Bastille Day if I can.
Gautier thinks he might be able to hook me up with a job as an English tutor at a Catholic school in Rennes. He'd help me find a place to live and help me improve my French at the same time. It is an attractive idea.
Adventure. One-way Denver to Paris, less than $600.
Why not?

I get to go see my family in Denver in a week for Thanksgiving. I am very happy about this. It is a shame I have so much to do before then. But that is okay. It will be wonderful.

Tuesday, November 1, 2011

And How! an abridged halloween weekend review

This Halloween (which I keep wanting to spell with 2 W's for some reason) I was planning on being a lighthouse, but then I didn't do that.
And How!
Instead I nabbed a Starbucks apron from our kitchen and house-partied as a Consumer Whore (and how!). This was taken early in the night, and unfortunately (or fortunately, probably) I haven't happened upon any from later on, but a bunch of people drew brand names and logos on me throughout the evening, making the next day's shower very interesting.
We had a good many excellent bands play and a good many interesting costumes. There was a Rufio, an Abominable Snowperson and even a sexy panda. It was a good bottle-and-a-half-of-red-wine night filled with all sorts of festivities.
Sunday morning had its ups and downs, though the only notable downs were a light headache and an unpleasant lack of seratonin.
But yeah, I nerded out pretty hard talking about pokemons and other products of my upbringing in the 90's, considering the fact that the inspiration for my costume was released in early 2000 and also, hey, why not.
So it was a lovely Saturday party--we accumulated a lot of funds for the house, which is fantastic because we like eating and having electricity and stuff. It has been fun around the house, filling in gaps in each other's memories and talking about various cutie pies and strange randos that we had met.

Good times.

So, now that all that's over, I get to prepare for my last midterm (Problems & Issues in Developing Economies [read: Microeconomics {read: ugh :/ }]) and do a whole ton of reading for Conflict and Humanitarianism, as always.

Until next time, you can drink your wine from the bottle as long as you have your pinky out.

Love you.

Sunday, October 23, 2011

gets me every time

This cat and I have become friends, little by little, as he grows accustomed to my being around and I keep my dog from invading his space too much. Ash belongs to Rico, a housemate and friend. I fight for Ash's affection just as many people fight for George's. That is how it works.

There are a lot of things that I want to do once midterms are over--yoga on the roof, trips to the coast and the state parks, time observing the beautiful Willamette River and taking pictures of things I don't want to forget. Texas calls out to me fairly often, because I do not know people here like I know my San Marcos family, but the time will come where I can share intimate moments with people I hold dear in this place. Some have happened already, like with cutie pie London and wonderful human being Kayla. Human George and I took a wonderful walk with dog George last week, and I hope that we hang out more and bake delicious cakes together. I have been playing guitar, and getting better at playing guitar, and I have actually started writing again though it is a slow and painful process. Every step is a step forward, even the ones that don't feel like it. 

I have a beautiful life here, and I will miss it when it is gone. I am learning to embrace my freedom, which Daniel and I always spoke of but only seldom enacted. I am free here, and I will be free when I go back to San Marcos, and I will live fully and happily and I will graduate and come back up here for as long as I am able. I will have to bring Sully with me, though. I miss him intensely. 

Here are Sully and Lo looking pretty together, circa 2010.  He would love it here, I'm sure, and [almost] everyone would love him. He and I are going to find a place to live together, us and George, with a little tribe of ourselves. It would be nice to end up back on Holland St. with a house-tribe of my own, making the place better and enjoying our time there together. We'd have a garden and hammocks and trashcan fires together, collect rainwater and build forts and love each other...but I daydream too much. Living here has made it difficult to imagine living by myself when I return, which was my original plan. I want to have themed parties and open mics and get along like people get along here, using consensus and volunteerism to replace hierarchy. I feel like I have learned so much more from living here than the University of Oregon could ever hope to offer me, and I wish I could spend less time on schoolwork and more time participating in what we have here. After midterms, I promise that to myself.
It is 7pm, almost time for dinner and our weekly house meeting. I have not done much around the house this week, but I will make up for it once midterms have ended. I am working on making a craft room/library on the first floor, filled with awesome crafty things and reading materials, and hopefully computers and a printer. It is my goal while I am here to see it through to its finish.