watched buena vista social club last night, and it was lovely. Today, I am stressed and overwhelmed. That is all.

not knowing who i was made for an odd, misplaced day yesterday. Until Tamika, Char, Theo, and Travis all met up at 39 Hotel, and we just talked and laughed all night. I ran into my friend the Captain. It is always good to see him. I have more fun with him than... maybe than anyone else. We click. He's moving in with his girlfriend and a few other people, and seemed happy about it. He texted me as he was leaving, and later in the evening, saying it was great to see me and asking: "boyfriend?" I didn't respond.

I've decided to date again, after taking a break. I think I'm going to dinner with a friend/guy tomorrow, and then next weekend I have plans to meet up with a sweet, pierced, rocker guy that I haven't seen in ages. I love dates. Should be fun.

I'm at CoffeeTalk. The people in the room I'm in are speaking Hawaiian. I want to stay just to be surrounded by the language. It's beautiful.

i dreamt that carol didn't know where she was. She woke up and was lost, and I could hear her wondering out loud where she was from my room. Then I woke up. For a good amount of time, I had no idea who I was. I didn't know where I was, what day it was, what I had to do... the only thing I knew was that the room I was in was mine. Everything else? No clue. I almost walked outside to ask my roommates. Eventually, though, I remembered. Never happened to me before.

complaining

most of you can skip this bitch-fest.

I am a patient woman. Of all things that I'm bad at, patience isn't one of them. That said, I'm beginning to lose that. Being without electricity is a surprising hindrance. One that I thought wouldn't be a bad deal, but now it's been 9 days and it's a pain. I'm tired of hauling the extension cord in and out, of not being able to close my door most of the time, of not being able to run multiple things at once.

The bathroom has always been gross--mold on the ceiling and spiders in the shower--but it was doable before. In and out. But now it won't drain and cloudy water fills up beyond our ankles and sits there for hours on end. Snaking, bleach, plunging... nothing makes it better anymore.

We can't tell how hot the oven is, only 2 burners work on the stove, and ants thread their way through all parts of the house--up the bathroom walls, across counter tops, along my floor--without a necessary food source in sight.

We received a 45-day notice that we have to move out. All these things considered, odds are they've realized the house is illegal and need to make renovations sans occupants. The letter gave no explanation, legally they didn't have to. But I don't want to live here for 2 months with a backed up drain and outlets that spark, when they work at all. I love living here, honestly, despite the fact that the floors only stay clean for a day after you hands-and-knees scrub them and that someone put up cardboard to cover the termite-eaten walls. I love the view, the lanai, and that the wind is sweet. Mostly, I love the people. I don't want to move, even though I'm oddly excited about it. I'm just frustrated with the current conditions.

In the next 45 days I have to finish my thesis, get a job, and find a place to live. Completely doable. Someone needed to light a fire under my ass--a job I used to do myself, but haven't done lately.

I've been using the word "frustrated" a lot recently. But now, I'm not as much frustrated as I am pissed-and-therefore-taking-care-of-shit. Maybe slightly less patient because I don't have a lot of time for bullshit. Don't have time to spend wasting. Feels good.

End of complaining. We now return to your scheduled Daily Life.

jesus could, really, be considered The Undead, couldn't he?? :) Zombie extraordinaire.

just remembering

one of my favorite things about my friend the sailor was how he listened. There was almost always a point in the conversation when I would say "Hey, you still there?" and he would respond "Yeah, I just like listening to you talk."

and

i've been having personal space issues lately. Just feeling encroached upon in different ways--probably mainly because I can't close my door or keep my food in my own fridge.

Anyway, I woke up this morning and looked out the window near my bed, and someone was on the lanai across from my window, watching me. REALLY?!? You're gonna watch someone sleep??? Maybe he was doing something else, but when I woke up and looked over he was definitely facing my window. When he saw me looking, he walked hurriedly across the lanai to his door... but... really?

i still don't have electricity. They're working on the power downstairs, and after they shut all the power off on Wednesday, the electric in my room wasn't restored. Neither was the electricity to the stove. Which sucked. Thursday, stove was working, home was not. Friday, when I got home and electrician was here, I told him I didn't have electricity. He threw an extension cord at me, told me he'd wasted half a day on figuring this out already, and left. For the weekend. Today, he hasn't shown up.

My fridge stinks (even though I removed most stuff), I have to leave my door open when I work to get power to my computer, and I only have my ceiling light for light. It's been 5 days. I'm pissed.

nearly done

with my freelancing. I do need to find a new job. For as much as I'm thankful for this one--it's seen me through 3 years--I can tell it's time to move on...

this too shall pass

it's times like these that i'm thankful life isn't stagnant. Even though we can't predict where life is going, at least things are always changing.

time

time is such a strange thing.

I miss my tutu.

caring about things=exhausting.

and i know, really, it's not him i'm missing.

the big, bad ex is on my mind for some weird reason. I've actually been missing the jerkface. The world-wrecking, GPA-ruining, insane-making jerkface. I know I miss the idea of him, not the man himself. Cognitively, at least. But, just a little, I give in to the feeling.

The logical side of me says: Of course there are songs that remind me of us. The question is, why am I listening to them on repeat?

i could go to bed right now. I guess it is nearly 11. But for a woman used to staying up till 4 a.m., this is early. And I have part of a work project due in the morning.

Church on the beach this morning was incredible. The pastor is Hawaiian and uses Hawaiian words and talks about sovereignty. Then Laura and I went to the beach and laid for a bit to take in the pretty.

things were so beautiful i almost couldn't open myself up to it.

But, there was no sunscreen involved. And I am SuperBrightRed. And maybe a lil lightheaded.

clean room=feel better.
listening to poetry while cleaning=thinking in poetry=happy.
wet bed=?????

Came back from cleaning downstairs lanai to find a weird wet spot on the bottom of my bed, puddle of water on the floor. And no, I didn't pee pee on the bed. But my blankets are wet in weird weird patterns...like, even though the top blanket was wet, the two beneath it weren't, but the sheets are...

Magic bed wets itself??

i think it'll always be like this, to some extent.

ani and i had a conversation about loneliness and aloneness—both saying the same thing. In life, you will always be a little lonely (or alone, depending on the word you prefer). No one can ever get inside your head and see the world you do. Hear your thoughts. No one can, in a sense, really know you. And, even surrounded by people, everyone is, in a sense, alone.

I've always gone through stages of removal. Hibernation. Contracted cases of the People Pox. Maybe it helps to sit with loneliness for me. Maybe it's just that I get so wrapped up in my head that I can't begin to communicate in a normal way.

I once wrote "I climb into the cracks on the page to hide." Nowadays, I climb into my computer, into video, into mindless sitcoms I don't even like or blogs of people I don't know. Seeking substance. Seeking beauty. I can't tell you the number of times I've typed "something beautiful" into Google, hoping to pull up art that would resonate with me. I'm so hungry for that feeling. The weirdly fulfilling ache that comes with encountering beauty. It's only because I'm not seeking it in my daily life.

School has sucked the life out of me. Ugh.

you know those days where you show up just in time to miss the bus, and trip over the sidewalk every time you cross the street?

I'm on my third day in a row of that.

i need to find something that calms me before i go to sleep. news, reading, movies, tv... none of it really works. hmm...

just plain out of sorts today.

and, i wanna cuddle.

i just wrote a whole post about relationships that i can't post because i'm not following it. Sigh.

The gist? My feelings are mine, and while they're inspired by the other person, they don't depend on them. I try, and mostly succeed, at not being embarrassed by how I feel about others. Because, again, my feelings are just that: mine.

But still, I've realized that I'm not as forthcoming as I thought I was, depending on the situation. Not that I'm embarrassed--it's just that... sometimes where you're at is so nice, you don't want to rock the boat. Yet.

reminder

there is this poem, by randall jarrell, that compares death to a doctor's waiting room. One of my favorites. Can't find online--remind me to search for it when there's time...

when i have money, i am going to buy stacks and stacks and stacks
of poetry.

i remember when poetry was breath and blood pumping through my veins. Donne, Plath, cummings, Hughes, Elliot, Williams... all my counterparts in speech and thought. That is how it is, I suppose, when you love something. Loves change, too.

This love hasn't subsided, it still fills me when I spend time with it. Just, for a time, has been rationed.

lil reminders

i was on my way to buy meat. That's all I wanted for dinner, for some reason. But the Greek restaurant down the street had their lights on (at 11:30 pm) and so I walked in and asked them if they were open. There were about 5 men hanging out in the kitchen, and No, they were closed, but did I want a sandwich? Francois, the man I was talking to, ordered the hairdresser (Salvo) behind the counter to make me a tuna sandwich, on the house (one word for the sandwich: amazing.). We talked and laughed and they got me a beer, said they were having a private party but it was kind of awkward because the party wasn't being friendly.

When my food came, every one moved to the table so I could sit and eat and not be alone. George, the mainlander that everyone obviously respected, cleared my plate and got me cheesecake. When I was finished with my dessert and my beer, he told Salvo to get me wine. Francois introduced me to everyone, and at one point when talking about life he pointed to me. This woman, he said, will be successful in whatever she chooses to do. I can't describe how much I needed someone to have faith in me today. And it was the random owner of the restaurant down the street; which made it that much better.

After a while it seemed that everyone moved inside and sat with us at one point or another. They were great, fun, gregarious guys who, other than occasionally hitting on me, treated me like one of the guys. They were from around the world, and some still had really thick accents, so I think I missed a lot. But what I caught was priceless.

Francois told a story of a man who was working on his house who wouldn't stop complaining about everything, but especially his wife's cooking. The man, apparently, had eaten nothing but bread for 20 years while living in a small village in Italy and was the skinniest, most bug-eyed man you'd ever seen, but was constantly unsatisfied with what they fed him once he moved to the US. Francois' wife cooked pasta for him every day but he always complained. So, Francois took over. He made penne with onions and basil and tomato sauce, and took a can of cat food from the kitchen and mixed it in (he cut the taste with lemon, in case you're considering trying this). He put Parmesan and fresh basil on top and served the Inherently Unsatisfied guy--and the guy ate so fast he didn't stop to catch his breath. Now THIS is pasta! the man proclaimed when he was done. Francois laughed and laughed and told the guy what he did. After that, the guy stopped complaining so much.

But, his restaurant is great and he'd never do that to a customer.

All of them wanted me to date Salvo, that was apparent. He was cute, but I'm over the whole idea of meeting someone and dating them right away. I want to know them first, make sure we fit at least a little bit. Salvo pulled me aside at one point and asked if I was okay, if I was having a good time. I told him that I was having a great time. I loved the company. They're great, he agreed. Very friendly. But you have no idea who you're sitting with, do you? Nope, all I know is that they're fun. These men, he said in his thick Greek accent, are the center of Honolulu business. Each of them is a multi-millionaire. When they talk about spending $2,000/night or leaving $18,000 for play money--they're not exaggerating. But, they will do anything for you. Place to live, job, money... they'll do anything.

Apparently, I was with some high rollers. But they seemed like the sort of men I'd like to hang out with on a regular basis. They're fun and intelligent and down to earth. With a crass sense of humor, which always gets me. I liked them a lot.

It was food for my soul. I miss those random encounters so much. I think I haven't been listening as much to what God is saying about daily life, and that's why I've been missing moments like this--whereas I used to have them all of the time.

This morning, I tried to force myself to do what I thought I should do, even though I really really really really didn't want to. And it all went wrong. The second half of the day was much better. My roomie helped a lot, too. Thanks Roomie. Sometimes I'm surprised how well you know me. I think being with you helped changed my attitude around enough that I'd be receptive to tonight's random encounter.

Life brings good things when you pay attention.

Sleepy. bed.

slippahs and jeans were bad choices on a rainy day. I walked nearly a mile, carrying my laptop and too many books, slipping out of my shoes. The coffee shop was full, so I got coffee and walked nearly a mile home, up the hill. Now I'm on the lanai, listening to Wilco, admittedly feeling a little sorry for myself and my sore shoulders. I don't want to think about NAFTA.

I can't wait to be done with school so that learning can be fun again.

life is the most beautiful thing i've ever had the privilege to take part in. :)

Tonight, just when I was beginning to feel out of place and sad, roomies kicked in. I got to speak my piece--which was maybe all I needed, to say out loud what was heavy on my mind--and then we all just got to Be. Together. Later, Makuakane came over with his guitar and played for us and sang and it made me realize: Ohana is continuously being brought to us. I wouldn't trade this island, this life, for anything. I love where I am, who I'm with, and what I'm learning. Life is perfect. Not because it is by any standard, but because life is, in all circumstances, perfect.

I think of my tutu often; and tonight, it seemed she was bringing me good things.

The things that occupy my mind (I think too much, I know) pale in comparison to the incredible life I've been given. Even with its faults.

reiterate

i have to say again: Life is good. I know life's path will take me back to a place of sadness or frustration or whatever, but for now... Life is good.

things have been occupying my mind. Like how happy I am, how I feel like my spirit has settled into my body and I am settled into my life. Like how I am healed, my body is operating differently and I am more aware of its processes, its movements. I looked back at an old journal today, and after 3 years I am, now, the woman I wanted to be then. I took an unexpected path to get here.

Today I practiced bowing with my roommate and my whole body was hot and shaking. I don't know why, yet. Something about that connection, or maybe I forgot to breathe.

Sigh. On to work on my paper.

caroline

i found this, and for some reason it creates cavernous spaces inside me.

the song i sing to myself

caroline. She keeps seeping into my thoughts over the last few days.

When I was 18, early in my undergrad career, she was murdered by her mom's boyfriend. He saw her walking from the shower to her room in a towel, made an advance, and when she rejected him he stabbed her 17 times. Beyond the point of killing her.

Two weeks before, she and I had hung out at a party. She wore glittery eyeliner and had Bonne Bell chap stick. There were a few dreads still nestled in her curly hair, and hemp necklaces around her neck. She was the girl I'd always hoped to be friends with, someday. And we spent the night at the party talking, just the two of us, all night long. I grew closer to her. Just like that, a few weeks later, she was gone.

I think about her now and again, as I do with all my loved ones who have passed on. But for some reason, I think about her all the time lately. I spent time when I was younger processing the incredible futility of how she died, and missing a friendship that never quite reached its peak. Lately, I just think about her face. And her hair. And her demeanor--everyone loved her, and rightfully so. I don't know why she's on my mind--maybe all death is, because I'm thinking about a lot of good friends that have passed away. It's the loss, maybe, that's occupying my mind. The spaces they leave behind. Not what's left over, but what's left undone.

it's 9:00. I have no food. I think, for once, I could take a break from avocados. I abused their goodness. Want to walk to the store but it's cold and raining and it's so nice to be in bed, warm under the covers. But... food...

sigh.

for carol

Today, like every other day, we wake up empty
and frightened. Don't open the door to the study
and begin reading. Take down a musical instrument.

Let the beauty we love be what we do.
There are hundreds of ways to kneel and kiss the ground.

-Rumi

And, for me:

The breeze at dawn has secrets to tell you.

Don't go back to sleep.

You must ask for what you really want.

Don't go back to sleep.

People are going back and forth across the doorsill

where the two worlds touch.

The door is round and open.

Don't go back to sleep.

I would love to kiss you.
The price of kissing is your life.

Now my loving is running toward my life shouting,
What a bargain, let's buy it.

--Rumi

theme song

you know that question: if your life had a theme song, what would it be?

My answer for years has remained the same. And I'm sure I could add more songs, but this is what I strive to embody: As Is by Ani DiFranco.

When I was younger and had life all sorted into black and white, I think I was fairly judgmental. The "bad" stuff in people, I just wouldn't see, or would categorize as not a part of them. Once I grew up a little and realized that humans are a mess of everything--sacred and profane, intelligence and pigheadedness, respect and obliviousness--I had to readjust my view of people. I strive all the time to acknowledge people for who they really are, not just what I want to see in them. And, as long as it wouldn't be toxic for me, to accept them. So, this is why I want this song to be my theme song--not that I embody it fully, but that I'd like to one day be this person.

Because, really, what good is acceptance and love if the person doesn't see you for who you are?

chorus:
and i've got
no illusions about you.
guess what?
i never did.
and when i said
when i said "i'll take it"
i meant,
i meant as is.

my favorite verse:
just give up
and admit you're an asshole.
you would be
in some good company.
and i think you'd find
that your friends would forgive you,
or maybe i
am just speaking for me.

cuz when i look around,
i think this, this is good enough.
and i try to laugh
at whatever life brings.
cuz when i look down
i just miss all the good stuff;
when i look up
i just trip over things.

----------------------------------
side thought: On a question that's supposed to be based solely on yourself (YOUR theme song), I choose one that speaks to how I relate to others. Guess that says a lot about me, too, huh? Have to think on that one.

beautification night last night with roomie=super fun.
And, this morning, I got up early with other roomie and had coffee and grape nuts. Even though I hate it, I like it. I feel more adept for the rest of the day.
I need to finish up Chapter 1 on my thesis... I was feeling super motivated but I'm not really, right now.
Coffee with Ani=super fun, too. I told her stories and she told me that I was really f*cked up for a while. Yup. That's life.