'Cause If You Want to Disco, Come to San Fransisco!

I just spent the last week in the Bay Area with my best girlfriend, Liza. She's moving a couple hundred miles north of Portland for work tomorrow, so we figured it would be a good idea, while we still had time, to get the heck out of the city and visit a different one.

What a trip-- we hiked all over, saw all the touristy things, stayed in a cool little hostel in North Beach. At the end, I was delighted to find that Liza and I had no issues spending that much time together. We were still just as enthusiastic about being around the other person as we had been at the start of the trip. This is the way we've always interacted, even when we lived together a couple years ago, and I'm still awed by it. Not every day that you find someone you love so thoroughly that you never get sick of their company. True friendship.

I'm going to miss her so much.

No Step #2

When in a hurry, Sarah, step #1 for changing the entire world is falling in love with it as it already is.

Same for changing yourself.

You like?
The Universe

Up From Here

The season is changing. My alarm goes off and I'm waking up in the dark now, always a little bit chilled. Where did summer go?

I feel almost as though I'm suddenly faced with everything I could possibly want at this moment in my life, and it's overwhelming to experience joy, real joy, after so many weeks of emptiness. I'm spluttering a lot trying to find the words: love, a career, my family close by, my friends reaching their goals. Enough to make your head spin!

I can sense my loved ones near me, and love them in return, and let them go. My grieving process isn't even close to over, but it's nice to not feel angry about it anymore. Like their deaths were something done to me.

Good to read back in my posts and find one recently that ended with, "I can only go up from here." It's still true!

No Great Fanfare

There is no great fanfare
when you discover your soul
is caught by another, no
trumpets or overture medley,
no perfectly choreographed
dance scene in the street,
the handsome men in tucked
primary-colored shirts, beardless,
slinging arms round the
impossibly small waists of
their female counterparts, no
swish of pastel skirts or harmonized
whistling, high-kicking
with all their might to celebrate
your admittance to love-- no,
only the soft pit pit perkle
of the one-cup coffee maker,
sugar and mug waiting quietly nearby
and a single trill of birdsong
outside in response to your nearly
imperceptible "oh."

Healing the Two of Us

And what if there were enough
to go around? What it,
slipping my hands into the film
surrounding her, I could somehow
pull myself into being? Cupping
the starry black jelly, invisible,
that coats each golden hair
on her arm? Drinking it into
my listening fingers? What if
my ears were my palms, fleshy,
lined with age, with love and
secrets in the dark; what if
I could heal the two of us
--both of us, each of us, we--
by breathing her breath just once
or twice?

Some Fantastic Advice

Me: My love life is a mess, Cass! How did this happen?

Cassie: It is exactly what it should be. I think that it is rare that at 23 you would be settled down and comfortable. I wasn't. And anyone that I know who was regrets it. Honestly, I wouldn't worry too much about it. I know that sounds ridiculous, but the truth is that anyone you find now has almost zero chance of being your lover and man for the rest of your life. You have so many changes that you are verging on, and in them you will lose yourself as you know it. That alone is enough to tear a relationship apart. So, it's a mess, just the way it should be.

But the beauty in all of what I just said is that you come out on the other end, and things are not so messy, you know yourself better and have a better (WAY BETTER) idea of what you want and need in a man.

Which is why I suggest you date all to hell. And kiss all of them.

And feel a tiny bit sorry for them, because they won't get to see what turns out. But you know inside, that what will be eventually will be partially contributed by them.

Me: That's wonderful-- all of that. Haha! Thanks, Cassie.

Cassie: I am glad you think so, because there are few that would actually understand what I just said. :) You are welcome.

Someone Telling Me Something?

This eerie song, a favorite of mine, has come up on my various playlists five times today. In the car, on my walk, on my computer. Five times. I'm starting to get a little creeped out.

Give me your hand
The dog in the garden row is covered in mud
And dragging your mother's clothes
Cinder and smoke
The snake in the basement
Found the juniper shade
The farmhouse is burning down

Give me your hand
And take what you will tonight, I'll give it as fast
And high as the flame will rise
Cinder and smoke
Some whispers around the trees
The juniper bends
As if you were listening

Give me your hand
Your mother is drunk as all the firemen shake
A photo from father's arms
Cinder and smoke
You'll ask me to pray for rain
With ash in your mouth
You'll ask it to burn again


Iron & Wine, "Cinder and Smoke"
From Our Endless Numbered Days, 2004

Remember the Tunicates!

Okay, okay, okay.

I'm young. I'm beautiful. I'm single. I'm at the start of my career. Enough of this moping shit.

I went grocery shopping, painted the bedroom, had my first appointment with my therapist... who I think will help me process all of this loss and pent-up anger immensely. Finished all of my extremely late homework and turned it in with absolutely NO excuse and a sincere apology.

It's been a beautiful couple of days. Perfect weather. I've been out walking a lot, and breathing, and watching people. I'm allowing myself to fully and thoroughly miss each of my grandparents, my godfather Paul, and, suddenly and all afresh, Sean Sole. This pain is a lesson. Often I'll catch myself talking to Sean out loud, asking him for advice, telling him stories I remember about our friends. I can hear him in my head, crystal-clear, over three years after his death: "I love ya, Sarah-Belle!"

I still ache inside, I still feel heavy all the time. But I don't feel like this will get any worse. And that's a blessing, right?

I can only go up from here.

Exactly Where I Should Be

The very feelings you're now feeling, Sarah, the good, the bad, and the confused, are in large part why you chose this lifetime: To simply feel them.

Let's get this party started,
The Universe

In Need of an Exorcism?

I haven't shopped for food in weeks, nor done any of my homework. I'm escaping the city every weekend. My condo is a mess. I'm drinking too much. I'm proud that I even remembered to pay the bills today.

THIS IS NOT ME.

Sarah, hyper-organized, optimistic, always punctual, always on-task, works to the best of her ability, cleans things to calm herself, cooks her own meals, eschews sitting on the internet all day.

Who is this person that's taken over my body? A part of me is aware that I just went through a difficult year and have finally come out on the other side clean, so to speak... so at this point I am most likely allowing myself to grieve fully. But still. I feel so entirely incorrect that it's frustrating; I know the steps to take to put myself right again, but I can't quite drag myself out of the funk enough to take them.

I'm painting my bedroom today. Perhaps some loud jazz and primer fumes will clear my head.