and, (superpostingdana says), i miss my grandpa every day. Every single one. I know how life goes on, I know how things change and how you grow (hopefully for the better), but every single effing day I think of that man. And I miss him. And I can't believe I can't call him. Or that I won't see his ridiculous half-toothed smile (my favorite!), or that he won't ever meet my future mate, possible kids, all that. Every day I miss him. And, I'm taking his absence in my life as a good thing--I don't feel him, and I hope that means that he's not hanging around this planet, but has better places to be. I just wish

I wish he was still here for me.

and, guys, check this out:

not the cutest picture (Shain looks cute, though), but we're makin news!

and, as an aside, i'm writing this from my superawesome studio in chinatown, on the roof out my window, watching the cars pass. Enjoying the night breeze on my skin. In my bra. Happiness, dictionary definition-wise, is currently: me.

how dana does her laundry.

call a friend.
Walk through chinatown with a suitcase full of dirty clothes. Try to look like you're either going on a trip or homeless. Be more sucessful with the former.
Bring a bottle of wine. This helps you feel less like a freeloader.
Do laundry, preferably while watching something great like the West Side Story. Hang out with friend. Get fed, if they have tacos. (Yay for Mattie!)
Walk home through back streets--still meet friends that ask where you're going. Admit that this is how you do your laundry.
Open your suitcase and enjoy that your room smells fresh-n-clean.

i don't know what all i have to say.

I've taken on more than I can handle, in my style. I'm wearing Grandpa-n-Grandma's ring, mostly because I miss him so much. And, as I write this, the song I listened to on repeat the day I heard of his passing has come on (Samson by Regina Spektor). It's still hard to think of my life without him. I reach for my phone on my lunch breaks, to call him and tell him I'm thinking of him and to hear his stories. And I remember that maybe now someone else has his number. I hold his story inside me, and miss him.

There are ridiculous amounts of things to do. I'm trying to gather my life together, but tasks keep leaking out the sides. As is expected.

Still, I am happy. Joyous, one might say. I told an anti-Religion friend of mine yesterday that "The seat of my soul is in joy." I felt strangely church-ey when I said it, and he just nodded his head, and said "That's a good way to put it."

Everything falls apart and comes together. That's the way life goes. There are many things to say, but the bottom line is that, underneath the roiling of everyday life, I am steadily joyful.

there are moments that make you ache. Sitting in nature, surrounded by beauty, and your soul just aches. Right now, I want to become a part of the art around me. I want to take the canvases off the frames and wrap myself in them. I want the music that Travis plays to solidify in the air and wrap itself around me. Art--life--is so beautiful and intense and intangible that my soul rises to meet it, only to fall short.

It has been a long time since I've heard my soul sing. I'm still familiar with the melody, though.

it's hot here. In the new place. Stuffy. So, I'm in my underwear (sports bra and boy shorts) doing work on my bed, as you do when it's hot. And a supercute stranger shows up at my door to ask about the swing dancing class that'll be here tomorrow. And I had to talk to him about it. In my underwear. Sheesh.

inhale, exhale.

It's getting colder. Scarves during the day and blankets at night. Still can wear a tank top and go to the beach if you want, so I'm not complaining. It's just nice to feel like the air is slightly newer than before.

Last night was a success--full (if not packed) house, and I swear that we have the best clientele on the whole island. I had a temporary breakdown (as predicted), but that's why there are two of us. I brought it together, and Shain held it together. Afterwards, I slept until 3 pm. Gladly.

I'm doing things, step by step. I can't let myself burn out completely, because that would take months to recover from. I just have to remember: left foot, right foot. Feed yourself. Drink water. Close your eyes. Breathe.