a night at bremen cafe

russian gypsy music, would-be bob dylans gathering around tables in inky crisp peacoats. i feel like a circus, hiding my bigtop backdrop against creme de menthe walls. i am avoiding the house, i am too afraid to face the thing i am coming to hate.

there's a pretty milkshake blond wailing into the puffs of smoke, looking for eyes to meet. she finds noone, and sits down to moan her siren song. it's almost spring, hope is shining it's ever-loving light onto our midwestern faces. love is hidden beneath bulky seasonal layers, but our cheeks glow.

i am offered a shot of whiskey. the way i see it, it would be inconsiderate to refuse. i am, after all, on a mission to get drunk. there are liquors to be swilled, boasts and brags to be made, woos to be pitched here in this youthful dark. the rain came steady today, and we've gathered to drink off the clinging chill. our winters are slow and inconsistent, but once they break, we cluster together once more beneath the soft light of our local corner bars. we wait here until the glaciers melt once again.

we gather their freshly flowing waters into cupped hands and drink to each newly promised day.

when we are tired, we are attacked by ideas we conquered long ago.

that's what nietzche said.



this has been a whirlwind of madness. apologies to all for the length of time since the last post. it isn't that i haven't wanted to write, but more a question of whether i should write the things that were concerning me most.

i've been having a difficult time adjusting to the demands of my current situation (school, work, baby, sleep, life, ect.) and want to get it all together somehow. i'm not quite sure how that will go as of yet, but i'm hanging in there with a little help from my friends.

i've had some major successes the past few weeks. primarily, i got into all of the classes i wanted for the semester and am not (yet) feeling overwhelmed by the workload. then again, i did miss ellen's class, and lord knows she likes to see us sweat. secondly, i just returned from a retreat in washington d.c. hosted by the americans for informed democracy and sierra club. it's part of a package deal. i've been chosen as one of the grant recipients for their innovators for a sustainable world project. because of the nature of this project, i'll be starting a blog to cover that aspect of my life.

but for the regular stuff, this is still yr go-to page. just before my departure to our nation's capitol, i spent the entire night indulging in music. i played base drum along with an accordian player, an accoustic base, guitar, and harmonica player. the boys informed me that what were were creating could formally be described as "swamp music." it was lots of fun.

then there was the d.c. thing. i met lots of people, saw the inside of a room for a very long time, went to a house (uc-internship?) party, got locked in a stairwell, met handsome and charming ethnic men, walked the streets til dawn, and still managed to make it to every single training session offered. the expense, of course, was at my rest. i'd ballpark that i got about 4 hours of sleep durring my d.c. experience. (take that to the bank!) there were some missed moments that i'm a little dissapointed about, but i'd say it was certianly memorable. in fact, there's an 18-year-old chilean boy texting messages to his princessa linda.

of course, the final chapter of things would be the working situation. i'm having a hard time with this situation, and am not quite sure how to handle it. the place seems to be in the thick of yet another transition (the third since i was hired in the summer) and each shift is uncomfortable, disorganized, and disappointing. i do what i can, but have come to the conclusion that the bosses would rather fire an employee than lose funding for a disruptive client. and i don't understand how i am supposed to take grief from all sides, maintain order, and be excessively courteous. i think i'm far to independent for a situation like this. i don't know.

alright. another night of awkward distraction. the project is good, things can be fine, but i have to work some things out in the mean time. i hope all yr days are beautiful, and that you are loved.

a toast

"this feels like a business meeting," i said.
"it is a business meeting."

we sit at the table, a half-liter of chilled merlot on the table. smoking covertly and dropping ash onto yr parent's velvet table runner, a last hurrah and prelude to my smoking cessation. we are silent sometimes, running uncomfortable hands against the grain of the table.

"do you find me untrustworthy?"
"we already talked about this, remember?"
"yeah, in the broader sense, yes. but do you, as an individual, think me a liar?"

tapping tapping tapping. thinking about the future, the past, the present. my son asleep in the bedroom upstairs, and we two drowning here. the last supper was taken hours before. after, i choked down a water table ( not water/table, but something) cracker and secretly whispered the body of christ.

and it seems like there have been so many last hurrahs lately.

just a few days ago, it was yr last night on earth. yet, here we are at this fucking table . we're full of resentment, and you've diagnosed us with a severe case of the broken heart. i promised you that when you die (when, not if) that i would were black, and a rose in my hair to remember you. you weren't too much moved.

it's been so strange to watch our lives fill and falter so spasmatically. nothing is reliable, real, or worthy, yet we continue on. there are invisible strings that tie us to this world. there are words and promises that we never speak but agree upon.

my mind drifts to the border. i think of him, of my newly empty apartment. raising my glass, i whisper, "a toast to personal borders, and reaching them."

the obligatory panic about love post

1.11.09

i am reaching out into the world constantly looking for love to quench my maddening thirst. i am weaving relationships with others through stories and shared experiences. each time i walk out of the house, it is toward a new adventure.

the past few weeks of my life have passed by like some whirlwind tearing me from the comfort of familiarity. i have come so far in the past twelve months, and pushed beyond that distance considerably in the past few weeks. the days bleed together and miracles burst forth with each new dawn.

i have spent much time alone, thinking about my life. what needs to change, where i want to be... the essential questions of "who am i, and where am i going?" i am going further into my work, dedicating most of my energy toward preparing myself for potential opportunities. school, the shelter, the writing, the dreaming. i pick out patterns from the future in dreams and tarot cards. tea leaves. loose feathers.

i've sent a number of letters out into the universe, and came to the realization that they are mostly love letters. not romantic love, but platonic love and surrender of pride. it's all washing away. i got a letter long overdue, only four lines long. one of the lines was "i'm sorry."

what a concept.

i guess i am sorry, too, that it's taken me so long to see my own flaws. so many people have given me the chance to change, but i didn't want to. but it's too late now, and adaptation is the only option i have. life isn't meant to be spent alone.