Monday, April 11, 2011

revisiting...

as we're on the subject of revisiting the past...

i'm back at the beginning. back where i was. retracing footsteps. following my own shadow. chasing my fading laughter among the golden leaves of fall... i'm back in cambridge.

much like the season. my visit is fleeting. a week of traipsing through old haunts. of retasting the crisp air. of tenderly retouching the rough tree trunks and bricks of new england.

i meandered along old walks. i smiled at the familiarity of my last fall and this current fall. 3 years gone. and the sky is the same shade of steel grey. the trees are still stark black against the firey red leaves.

i fell in love with this place six years ago.

revisiting has reminded me why.

i miss it.

i miss home.

detours

one day. technically speaking it's two. but for my heart it's only one.

i have to pack. i know. i haven't even started. i have to ship some stuff home. thanks to everyone who gave me reading material. but man are books ever heavy.

and in order to avoid volcanoes and ash. my flight leaves on time from boston. but lands not in chilly reykjavik . but in less chilly glasgow. which is the right continent. but uhm... 6 hours away from my actual destination. and there is no free transfer. which. sucks. balls.

sigh.

trains or another flight is the only option. poo. poo i say.

one day.

and lots of luggage.

Saturday, April 9, 2011

wait what?

so emailing to the moo in regard to the ole "long time no see" and how to rectify such things. teehee... rectify is a funny word.

this sentence made me giggle in which we were discussing which state would be better to visit. ohio. or minnesota... "i think minnesota would be tooooons more fun."

...

now... is it just me or does that sound like an oxymoron. or like some sort of creepy i've-been-brainwashed speak?

i don't want to sound state-ist... state-cist... stateophobic? but really? what do they have there?

so of course. being the uber researcher that i am. i googled minnesota. one, to find out where it is. and two to find out where it is. i mean... to find out what fabutastic stuff there is to do there.

the first thing that the official site says besides the great outdoors is the mall of america. the effing mall of effing america. lets not talk about any places of great historic value or of natural beauty... instead lets sell our big ass nod to consumerism. wow.

but this... this seems to sum it up best. i mean... pickle dog dreams?! what?! what?!! i think this may explain why moo is such a fantastic weirdo.

oh and there also seems to be an inordinate amount of snow/winter activites. hello minnesota. there are like three other seasons to be had. sheesh.

and now i sit back and wait for the peeptastic rants to come flowing in from the tumbledryer.

Friday, April 8, 2011

the hell?

so another joy with staying with the socal rents is that they are crazy. gramma is a bit of a hoarder (hence the museum-like state of this place). the stepdad is well... lets just say socially challenged. which is either just his years spent as a freelance photographer in rural africa and asia or it's because of his terrible b.o.

my mom has her own bit of crazy. again. this i think is due to childbirth. i should do a study on it. maybe the rational part of the brain migrates during pregnancy and is detached along with the placenta. *shrug*

just now. i mean... really truly about two seconds ago. stepdad tore out his address from a piece of junkmail... and ate it.

...

really?

i mean.

really?!

Wednesday, April 6, 2011

email conversations with my male clone...

me: my cat is fat.

the brother: You should make her swim. Get fit.

me: yea... she would be most displeased and then she'd pee on my bed and scratch my eyes out. or she'd just look really pitiful and sink to the bottom.

the brother: Are you sure it's a cat and not a pet rock? The feathers and parts of small fowl lead me to believe I adopted a chainsaw.


(*editors note: the email chain's subject line changed from "AAAGH!" to "Bullshit" at which point i had to request it not be a word that could get me fired from my job [which if you think about it is funny since i'm quitting]. then my dearest brother changed it to "Bull-shido (formerly RE: AAAGH!) nagasaki enoki sato hiawatha!")

(**editors note: let it also be noted that my brother held off naming his kitten until it had made its first kill, and thus began the fearful reign of tiberius ceasar the first, tormentor of souls, ravager of small woodland creatures. i made that tormentor of souls, ravager of small woodland creatures part up, but you have to admit, it has a nice ring to it.)

Monday, April 4, 2011

jet setter...

not really. but goodness me has it been a long day. it seems like this morning was yesterday. technically due to time zones it was. is. whatever.

i'm now back in my old room at my old housemates apartment. weird.

i was wandering around and i kept finding things from three years ago. still in the same spot i left it. still with the same contents securely kept inside.

beyond weird.

i'll keep you posted on the random exploits. though they won't be juicy. unless you think the image of me cleaning a grubby bathroom is juicy.

and if you do. i don't want to know you anymore.

Friday, April 1, 2011

on the wind...

do you ever feel out of control? as if all the things you used to handle, are now insurmountable?

simple things. like sleeping on the bed. and not the bathroom floor. like eating an actual meal. and not just drinking tea. like waking up in the morning. or taking a shower. or smiling.

my grasp is slipping. i'm sleepwalking through my days. i sit in the corner of the couch. curled into myself. and watch the shadows taunt me as the sun dances out of reach.

i thought i was covering it all so well. i thought only certain people could see the emptiness behind my eyes. but an acquaintance mentioned it last night. as we talked at the bar. me with my bottle of white wine. he with his draft beer. and the flicker of concern flashed across his face. and i knew he knew.

panic. my friend. panic. my well rehearsed act faltered. the curtains came down. and i'm left on stage. and everyone knows how it should have ended. but i've forgotten my lines.

it's these little things that send you out of control. these tiny truths. the fact that though you don't talk about it. everyone knows. you try to hide beneath your hair and makeup. but your sadness and shame shine right on through.

your laughter is hollow. your heart trails after you. covered in dust.

it's like being a leaf. i was once held up. attached to a strong oak. swaying in the breeze. but held. protected. then autumn came. and now. i float. alone. tossed this way and that. with no clear course. only the fear of landing.

i have no strength to steer.