a letter from a friend

...such a perfect gift to give and receive, letting someone have a slice of your thoughts, knowing you were worth the time it took.

What I would love to do is go to New Zealand for a month, or two, possibly stroll down South America way for a week, if that could happen, then spend a couple of weeks in Europe with Tatyana in September, and visit the masses of family in England for a while after that, then just see where I wind up.

Thoughts?

I hate this feeling. I'm different from everybody else. Everyone else accepts it, they're open, they're understanding, they're not stuck up and they don't judge. But apparently I don't accept it, I'm closed minded, I don't understand, I'm high and mighty and I judge. I can't help it. How can I help having a strong opinion about something that ripped up my family, something that destroyed my hero, something so wasteful, so useless...

What I hate the most is the burden that my past experiences place on you. Why should you have to deal with someone so uptight, who can't possibly see the good in it when everybody else can, or at least tries to? Why should you have to walk on eggshells around this, worried that I might spin off or cry, why should you have to worry about appeasing me? You shouldn't. You should have your opinions, you should feel how you feel, and most importantly, you should do whatever you want.

But I can do what I want too.

my current favorite

the guilty undertaker sighs
the lonesome organ grinder cries
the silver saxophones say i should refuse you
the cracked bells and washed-out horns
blow into my face with scorn
but it's not that way
i wasn't born to lose you

i want you, i want you
i want you so bad
honey i want you.

the drunken politician leaps
upon the street where mothers weep
and the saviors who are fast asleep
they wait for you
and i wait for them to interrupt
me drinking from my broken cup
and ask me to
open up the gate for you

now all my fathers they've gone down
true love they've been without it
but all their daughters put me down
cuz i don't think about it

well i return to the queen of spades
and talk with my chambermaid
she knows that i'm not afraid to look at her
she's good to me
and there's nothing she doesn't see
she knows where i'd like to be
but it doesn't matter

now your dancing child with his Chinese suit
he spoke to me, i took his flute
no, i wasn't very cute to him,
was i?
but i did it though, because he lied
because he took you for a ride
and because time was on his side
and because i...
i want you
i want you
i want you so bad
honey, i want you.

starting to like this

I am surprised to learn today that I'm really starting to like my apartment, my room, my family, my relationships, my typewriter, my surroundings, my life. I just feel comfortable all of the sudden, here in my room that I've loathed for a while now, with my plants and my things on the walls and my tea and carrots and chocolate-covered pretzels next to me. I feel like I've set things up for myself for once, I've decided how to handle things, I'm doing what I like, and it feels really pretty good.

Peter, on the other hand, has virtually no free will. Here are some pictures. As if we all haven't seen enough pictures of Peter. But I like these.

a smattering of photos, no order, no reason

Wouldn't it be cool if our eyes were...oh wait, they are.

A good memory from the Dominican Republic.

Joe and my journal.

A lonely orange at Brewed.

My Dad fell down and my Mom's loving it.

View of Manhattan from the plane.

Hughlietti in L.A.

THIS PICTURE IS IN FULL COLOR. We were in a sepia colored room!

An accidental picture that I liked from New York years ago.

On the freezingest bus of all time in the Dominican Republic.

BELLA MYSTERIOSA.

Joe and Alex on the marina frolph course. I really like this picture.

Some Good Things About Today

Waking up at seven and being able to sleep in for an hour.

Watching the morning news and listening to the radio.

Listening to Graceland in Morrison Library.

Eating good little carrots.

Taking a much-needed nap in Brewed Awakening on their amazing couch.

Seeing Lucas, forgetting I saw Lucas, and then getting hit by Lucas.

Seeing a pair of beige and maroon striped sleeves stretch up across the microcomp room, smiling, and the waldo-ness of them, and then realizing it was Joe :)

Going for an amazing run, and not stopping on the hard uphills.

Making dinner.

Watching Seinfeld.

Finding out that my Problem Set is not worth very much of my grade, so I can focus on learning the stuff rather than stressing out about points.

NOT SPENDING A CENT.

three different scenes from a day around berkeley

International Trade, demonstrated by the fact that every piece of clothing Tatyana owns is from a different country.

Crazy Brimmy demonstrating the old geology trick of turning your hat around so you can see stuff.

I noticed how ridiculous my reflection looks in the faucet each morning and decided to take a picture of it.

suhk uhs uh duhg

The title is my attempt at how Joe would say 'sick as a dog' when he's talking to Peter. Say it out loud through clenched teeth, open your eyes really wide, and jerk your head with each word, emphasis on the last one. Are you with me?

So I am sick as a dog. A crummy, stuffy, sneezy cold. But I feel strangely ok about staying home by myself on Saturday night, with tissues and tea and Gregoire and some movies. I'm getting to the point where I don't feel awkward about taking the rest I need, finally. In other news, the near-documentary 'Chalk', affiliated with the Morgan Spurlock crew, is amazing, touching, incredibly and almost painfully realistic. It shouldn't be missed, especially since you can get it for a dollar at the elephant pharmacy. OR IT WOULD BE A DOLLAR IF I COULD ACTUALLY REMEMBER TO RETURN THE MOVIES ON TIME. Six bucks for Sicko. SIX.

Last night was as close to pure, unadulterated loveliness as I've come in a long while, possibly in my lifetime. An amazing surprise, totally unexpected, a beautiful restaurant, the best seats in the house, honest, delicious, fresh fresh food, a restoration of faith in humanity and a reaffirmation of faith in Berkeley and especially in Joe. Sounds all a little bit high and grand but that's how it felt, and more.

Now off to watch Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, drink some tea, and I don't even care if I fall asleep.

an important day for me and me alone?

So much is rambling around in my head and I felt the need to type it down. Sometimes I wish that instead of these posts we could just use our typewriters to write on real paper and then pin them up on a common corkboard somewhere. I don't like this no-accountability instant gratification internet and what it's done to me.

Today is mixed up, not necessarily in a bad way but in a decidedly mixed up way. To me, it represents a lot, it marks a huge turning point in my life, the point when I started taking chances and living with at least one and a half eyes wide open, when I stepped off the conveyer belt and into the wild. Maybe I just stepped onto another conveyer belt, actually, but at least this one was going in a better direction. Since then I've had some of the best and worst moments of my life, but I'd take the whole lot over the forced sedation that I had before. It was a scary day, a sneaky day, an exciting day. What else to say? I can't believe it's been a year, but my new cast of characters seems so much more than a single year old.

Ross and Nicki have been gone for more than ten months now. I miss them with a dull, throbbing ache that constantly haunts the back of my mind. Rarely, if ever, does this ache become acute, but it's there always. I want to be able to call Ross up and tell him that I put artichoke hearts on my pizza. I want them to come here for Trivial Pursuit and show me how to reappreciate the joys of Berkeley, Tilden, and even mom and dad and home. I want to appreciate them like I didn't when they were here, because I took them for granted, because how could I not?

I am swimming in a sea of broken down thoughhts and I wish I could talk about them with my very favorite person but I'm afraid they've got bigger fish to fry right now.

Some tea will quiet my buzzing ego.