mmm drugs

A nice day off is when you get mellowing drugs for the dentist and your significant other doesn’t try to snort them. Oh how times have changed. Here is some diazepam… Oh I don’t like the taste of almonds. Let the drill bit drill baby.

Rot

There comes a time when I just need to clear shit out. Clean the insides, clean the outsides, buy some pretty underwear and set up an easel. That is how I feel today. It is grey and the wind seems to permeate the house. I am still in the process of dog sitting for a friend (only 3 days to go) and I daydream of what to do in my space. There is a bumble bee hitting the glass door with only snowdrops and the occasional daffodil to feast on. Timing is wrong. I feel sorry for the bee. It feels like everything around me is rotting. Things are starting to bloom. Perhaps it is because of the dentist bill forecast that was predicted yesterday. Everything is rotting inside me, that is for sure. Soon enough the meager savings I have made working 3 jobs will dwindle to nothing and I will have a mouth of silver to show for it. After rot comes life and so on, right? So I am going to clear the decks inside and out. Time to peg off some of my 31 in 31 list.

Sometimes

Sometimes a pessimist is just a pessimist and sometimes a passive is just a passive. Sometimes they don’t compliment each other. There is just mess. Nothing gets done, except, maybe from one side. But that side is doing it out of anger that the other is doing nothing at all. The other sulks in self pity. The desire for a kick in the shins is curbed with images like this that remind me what the core is. The core is strong. The periphery gets on my nerves… sometimes.

Some hills are worth it

The best I ever feel is when I have been outside the city limits. This week I had two days off in a row, a rare occurrence. Chanctonbury Ring was our destination. Upon arrival I turned sour as I looked straight up the mammoth hill. My thoughts went a little like the following: “this-is-my-day-off-and-you-want-me–to-spend-the-whole-time-climbing-this-bitch-ass-trick-hill-instead-of-walking-along-in-a-mystical-haze-in-Ashdown Forest?” But there we were and I didn’t want to be thought of as a wimp standing at the foot of the trail so I started a long. Although the climb was steady the whole way, I didn’t lose my breath at all and found it surprisingly easy. Once at the top we had rice crispy squares and sipped some ginger whiskey. It reminded me of Prairie Mountain in Alberta. You climb up for a long time but when you get to the top it is flat and looks like a field. It is rather anticlimactic until you relax and take in your surroundings. Looking down on the land below us small cars and trucks wove in and out of the tree lines. It was quiet. Hawks circled and the occasional dog walker could be seen in the distance but other than that we had the space to ourselves. I will try to remember this the next time I complain that a hill looks too big to climb.

Sunday walk in the park

"Careers are a 20th century invention, and I don't want one"

Sometimes I jump into a memory with both feet. Most of the time it is willingly. Yesterday I watched the movie “Into the Wild”. I read the book in India while staying on the roof of a hotel. At the time it wasn’t safe to be walking the streets alone after dark (as a woman) so I read a lot. In a few months from the time I read that book I hitchhiked from the northern most aspect of India to Delhi after my bus blew up. I made it in time to catch my flight back to the USA and back to the little island I lived on. Back to my VW van, my cat, my boyfriend of the time who had hooked up with my a dear in my absence, and my natural surroundings of the Pacific Northwest. The men on this island were so similar to the man “Into the Wild” is written about. Seeing the movie, this long after reading the book, was like losing someone all over again. It was a rush of bush life. An instant memory of living in trees where deer sleep on your natural doorstep and where you bleed like clockwork with the moon. I have been depressed all day. Not because the man died but because it was a life I lead and I lived. I have integrated. I have seen the death of that side of myself. Sitting here, with my three jobs and my comfortable home, with my car that has to take me to the forest, I remember the naive ideology. There were truths in there. I still remember some of them.

dreams

I had a dream where I was in those beginning stages of a romance. What resonated about the dream was the feeling of anticipation. The growth of possibility. The burning of lust and giddiness. In the dream the girl, with whom I was infatuated with, reached out and grabbed my hand. I had that “I’m in” feeling. The whole dream centered around these beginning moments of wonder. Thinking about it makes my heart beat faster. In my dream a close friend reminded me that I was married. When I told the girl the look of disgust and disappointment crossed her face. “To a man?” she said with a look of betrayal. I was truthful though. “Thank you very much for this experience. I am sorry I led you on, it just felt really good to have my heart flutter and to suspend the wanting of a first kiss.” I woke up there after, my man beside me. I curled into him confused by how real it all felt.

The day was a success!
It had nothing to do with trees but aren't they amazing? I love a good English wood.