Worth Holding Onto

Last night

was what may have been the last of the family dinners at Wedgewood. We were saying good bye to Alex who is going back to NY to finish his last year at Syracuse. Go Orangemen. I brought the materials for making homemade ice cream and the two of us went shopping for dinner supplies

Beef stroganoff/Bishop's (Barker) Beans

Water in tumblers/misc forks and dishes

laughter/stress

spilling drinks on shorts and bare feet

homemade ice cream & fresh strawberries/juicy watermellon staining chins and countertops

french press dunkin decaf

romantic ballroom music from the hi-fi followed by the Peter Pan audio book LP (Alex gave gifts to the housemates which were more or less inside jokes that I won't attempt to explain here but I still wish you could have heard our roars of laughter when he presented Caleb with Moby Dick. I wish you could have seen Kyle's face when Alex handed him Peter Pan on vinyl) 

new sponges acquired thanks to the squareback, but no dish soap still (boys, come on!)

--basically all the things that make up summers: food, music, laughter, stress, good byes: culminated into one place

The temporary family is breaking up, just as the ones before it have, but I'm more at peace with this fact now. I do not feel the need to cling to these guys even though I have enjoyed their company. Perhaps it is the wanderer in me. Perhaps I am jaded. Perhaps I am growing up.

On the downside, 

Their company has reminded me that Kendall, my OBFOC (only best friend on campus), is not here.

And I miss him fiercely. My one-on-one times that I was able to spend with the boys at different points throughout the summer have come to their end. I realize that it salved my lack of Ken, my lack of Jeannette, my lack of Liz and Mandy. But temporarily so. Just as last year the lack of Jeannette was salved by the Mansa House. We do these things, I was saying to Caleb, as a form of survival. Humans were meant to be together, meant to form families and that's why we make these habitats, these temporary homes. (Yes, I'm an anthro major, get over it.) And it was the calm conversations with Kyle, the silly laughter with Caleb and the over-attentiveness of Alex that formed a Missing Kendall stew. Allah be praised: he comes back on Tuesday.

Lexi came over around 10 and helped me finish off the coffee. She fit in so easily with the boys there. It was good to have her. She crashed at my place because the next day, she was going to Biola to ask that they let her back in for the Fall. When she told me this the night before, my knees hit the carpet. I reminded God that I do this to show Him how serious I am and then I prayed. Lexi has good news, it's looking positive for Fall 09

We did not go to bed until 4 this morning, staying up, talking....

When Lex left biola at the end of Fall 08, we had dinner at the caf

Then I hugged her outside Horton

For what I believed would be the last time

But God is so faithful

-because I was wrong-

Lexi was part of one of those temporary families, one I tried to cling to but was like sand in my hands. We love each other still, these people, but it is not quite the same. Though with Lexi's comeback and especially our time last night, I realized something even greater: 

that she is worth hanging onto. 

Not that the Wedgewood boys aren't worth it

That's not what I mean at all

Alex, Caleb and Kyle have all given me wonderful, poignant things to ruminate on the past two months and it has been a joy to cook and bake and clean for them as well.

But there are some people who transcend the framework of habitat and Lexi is one of them. 

Back in my life for a reason

If only back for a season

But Lexi, you are so worth holding onto

Of all the moments in this blog, the majority of them come from the men of Wedgewood and miss Lexi

Thank you boys for a good June/July. May your adventures to Syacuse, Alex, to Whittier or Missouri, Caleb, to South Africa or wherever, Kyle, bring you joy that goes without comparison and maturity beyond value.

Thank you Lexi for the past, present and future. I am goin to hang onto you.

It's Already Begun...

The end of everything and the beginning of new things, that is.

I realized this crystal clear as I didn't after graduation--not even as after everyone went home for summer.

But yesterday I talked to an aquaintence from the film program, Caleb and though he is living in my brother house, he is no longer going to biola. He will be here. We will have get togethers at his house and our house, but he is gone in the sense of the film program. so odd. but Caleb, why move back? I thought about this quite a bit

& then even more so today because I took my lunch break in the biola caf and I realized that I would not enjoy the familiar meal community three/two times a day as I did the past two years.

I sat by the big window where Nate, Sam, Alyssa, Josh and sometimes Courtney, Beth and LB would sit every Monday and Wednesday Spring semester for lunch, pre Linguistics for Nate and me. This is how I met Sam and LB, my now housemate. This is how I was invited to Gnome Night at Nine. This is Nate and I hashed out our ethnographies and made jokes no one but anthro majors could possibly find funny.

But this scene will not be recreated this coming year. None of us are living on campus. I am saddened by this--intensified probably by the realization that people really are leaving. I have not had really close friends graduate yet but they will start this year with Kendall and Mandy and Nathan. Slowly but surely, we're diffusing. Moving off campus is just the beginning of it. Soon, college is over and we begin again.

But enough of being depressing

Here's to the end of summer. Here's the the beginning of a new, wonderful, challenging, frustrating, rewarding year. Here's to new adventures. Here's to living off campus. Here's to the beginning of the end

Evidence

Today

As I was shaving my legs, I realized a couple things that made me happy.

First, there are these... I guess people call them spider veins?... on my calves in the fleshy part below my knees. I have them on both legs. They make me think of those coral that appear like brittle red fans. I like them. I know a lot of people want to get rid of them. Maybe they're ugly? To me, it's like having tattoos of coral fans, slightly faded, on each leg. 

I have always sensed a special connection to the ocean, feeling very at home there, gliding in and out of the water like a giant snake, fighting the pounding pounding pounding waves, like some monk raking sand. I enjoy it, that pointless fight, So much so that I don't want a diamond on my engagement ring. I'd rather have a pearl, the gem of the sea. To me diamonds symbolize worry and pride but a pearl symbolizes freedom, power and the Kingdom of Heaven.

Second, as I was shaving my left thigh, I found a slight discoloration on the side, wrapping to the bottom of my leg. I tried to scrape it off with my fingernails but it didn't budge. Then I wondered if this was the evidence of the burn I received as a toddler when rolling around the floor of my grandparents' camper, I rolled into the space heater. My parents could never remember which leg it was I burned. Maybe this one is it, I wondered. And maybe this is the remnant of the burn.

I like my imperfections, some more than others, obviously. But it's the same reason I like peoples' crooked, child-like teeth, their deep-set eyes, their prominantly-bridged noses, their lopsided smiles, their multi-colored facial hair. I have spent my whole adolescent life studying the human form as a fine artist and now as a makeup artist. I am fascinated by the evidence of our genetic variations, our childhood accidents, our aging. We are such beautiful creatures.

The Open Road

[photo by Mike Villa, Text by me]

This weekend has been wonderful & I have Kelsey, her family, MikeV, the random coffee baristas and kindly store owners to thank for that.

The open road stretches before me, quiet, unassuming. The rain falls softly. I open all the windows and sun roof, listening to a mixed CD of both my friends' and professional popular artists' music.
I am peaceful inside.

California (and the stress I left there (momentarily)) secretes from my skin along with the sweat. Lips are dry. Skin scrapes off in dirty particles like a pilling sweater. My makeup creases around my eyes, melts on my cheeks and forehead. Kelsey's mom does not approve. She tries to convert me.

So many adventures, too much excitement and wonder to really describe.
When there are so many "moments"--all I can do is make a list... though as detailed as I can convince myself to articulate!!!!

Photo shoots with Sisters Heng
(in the) 100+ degree heat
(but thank God!) Coffee (sometimes hot) three times a day.
--> At least one new coffee house a day: Dunkin Donuts, Lux, Copper Star
Then: Used record stores/weird stores/weird people/weird Kelsey/weird me
Punctuated by: Long drives=my slowly emptying head and heart
Once, twice: The empty, noisy Lightrail
Littered with: Candid photos
-->Kelsey playing camera peek-a-boo
The anarchist library/Orange/Joey the Anthro-film major/Mikey with the homemade tattoos, my instant friend
Pissing off the baristo at Copper Star

It goes by in a flash--but my mind is taking notes. I fall silent from time to time, my wheels whirling away, attempting to remember every detail, fill in every pixil. And then I'm back on the road, racing the sun Westward. The earth is pink, gray and tan until Cochella where green crops up again, the heat climbing to 112 F before dropping the other side of the chocolate-chip covered mountains. I love this world. I love the dry places: Anasazi Territory to Mojave Territory, the former Northern Mexico. I love the relentless sun, the beautiful sparkling asphalt and sand, the shrubbery that could be from the Austrailian Outback. As much as I want to leave this country, as much as I loved leaving the State, I can't deny-->I love this earth, this beautiful country. I love the places full of turqouise and sandstone of woven baskets and sweltering weather, sweaty thighs on cowhide, hair that doesn't stick to dry lips, night that just feels like darkened day.

The Downs

[credit john carter]

Somedays, like today

the small joys, potent though they can be

do not even make a dent

in the great mountain

that is the disappointment the day can bring

I began this blog because I needed to convince myself

That though this summer has been full of disappointment

 and Murphy's Law has wrought havoc on my life,

there are still sweet moments every day

that I can thank my Lord for

and rejoice in the wonder of existence 

But sometimes I fail to convince myself and I am left with

all the things that the small joys are in effort to erase

The disappointment

The anger

The depression

The regret

The restlessness

The loneliness

Today

I told my dad that if things don't change,

I'm finding somewhere else to live for the rest of the summer

Please pray for me

Things have been very hard for a long time

and all the quiet things

are becoming deafening 

I am exhausted.

My energies are spent.

Do Not Send

This morning

I found the best label ever
After a week of putting over 23,500 labels of biola alum addresses on postcards,
this was a much-needed laugh

Love and Carbs

And then somedays

or some nights, rather

There is so much goodness that it eclipses everything else that happened during the day. They are not so much "moments" but a time that seems suspended and sustained for hours until you look at the clock and discover it's 2:30 am and you need to get home stat.

You sleep only 3.5 hours that night, but no matter.

Ashley made killer food: chunky salsa, homemade enchiladas, like mommy's. Dinner served at 10:30 pm, but no matter.

Int'l DJ supreme Leo Su, Josiah, John Lawver, Thomas, Sean McC, Kyle Gilbz and President Caleb Pyles

Good company, lots of carbs, a night to cherish.

You are here. This is now.

You've loved these boys a long time, some longer than others and Ashley is always such a joy not to mention a phenomenal cook.

Long philosophical and spiritual nourishment with John

Fooling around with Josiah

Singing with Thomas

Generally harassing Kyle

Hearing Leo's stories of adventure

Long live summer

May you never cease to bring small, unexpected joys

Look at this Hipster!

Today

Bethany was telling me about her human sexuality class

and how she just got past the chapter on transgender and how this text book has shown her things she has never desired to witness. When I asked her about what the chapter even discussed, it was along the lines of what would interest me: basically the psychology behind it.

Then I checked my latest addiction: latfh.com

and discovered this:

http://www.latfh.com/post/141552471/two-or-three-more-coronas-and-ill-show-you-boys

I laughed so hard I cried.

All Bet could say was "ohhh no".

Royal Pain

My brother Micah

Tends to be a little mouthy.

I could tell he was annoying the living goodness out of Mom today.

My mom, who does not cuss very much

(especially since she will be mocked for it years and years after the fact by Micah and myself)

finally called him

"a pain in the aspergers".

HAHAHAHAHA

So good.

The lounge

For years

There is a house on Santa Gertrudes that has a wall facing the street.

On this wall is some kind of platform with a patio set

That I have never seen anyone sitting at

Until today

When I spotted a man reading a book, lounged out on that patio set

What a victorious day.

I wish I could have stopped the car and talked to him

Love and Old Age

Sometimes, like today

The "moment" of the day does not hit you with force
It sneaks up on you and embraces you from behind and you are filled with peace.

When I first started this blog, I thought I'd only write down the "moments" that made me laugh until I cried because the combination of those two things is just so great. You laugh until you cry. You cry until you laugh and everyone must breathe until their dying breath.

I have been thinking a lot about old, worn-in love. At DT Disney yesterday, Hannah and I pointed out a lot of it to each other. There is something so great about being old, worn-out, wrinkly, saggy and kinda fat (or just fat) and holding hands with some other old broken down human being that you just enjoy the company of so fiercely.

Today in Whittier I followed around a couple a little while before I felt the nudge of the "moment", soft and peaceful, point out to me, "you in 25 years":

A woman, rotund and weathered, with short hair pulled back from her face,
a bright auburn that must have been chemically enhanced,
wearing a flowing brown skirt, leather sandals and silver bangles
Linked her first two fingers with the last two fingers of a taller man
whose long dirty blond hair was pulled back into a loose, sloppy bun
his face a beautiful explosion of sea-battered leathery skin
and graying whiskers
Their freckled and sagging arms swinging slightly

That's right
You thought I wasn't a romantic person
And neither did I
But luckily, I am young, and there's still time to reinvent
Before I get old, wrinkly, saggy, kinda fat and set in my ways

The Moped Gang

Tonight

on our way home from Downtown Disney (another Daddy date with me, dr. roberts and the pops)

we waited at the light to turn from Auto Center onto Beach Blvd.

and a fleet of jacket-flaunting

tassel-whipping

moped-riding

gang members

flooded the intersection before our very eyes

I have never seen a moped gang before

It changed my life

Goddess Dress

All the boys
said they liked my new dress
and that I looked pretty

Some Days

Love the moment, 

and the energy of the moment

will spread

beyond all boundaries.

- Corita Kent

 Some days 

Like, today

I don't have what we call "a moment". I don't like these days because I feel slightly gypped, like the day was a waste. If I see the boys (I mean the Wedgewood house) after a few days of not having a moment, it's hard cuz we usually have a time of the evening we share our most recent moments and I wish I could contribute.

These kind of days teach me patience

they teach me to enjoy others' moments as if they were my own

and to savor my moments for days on end

and to reread my blog to remember that time-honored saying:

life is still sweet

Pacifist

Steve Gilbertson

Born 1960

Is a pastor

and also a pacifist

My faith in humanity has been restored.

Desert Rain

This morning

Barely even today because it was just barely past midnight

we were on the 10E, en route to Cave Creek

We had been watching lightening on the horizon for hours

And it began to rain

Pour, as a matter of fact

It was gorgeous, fat desert rain

And the whole world smelled of wet earth

and sweaty gym socks

I wasn't driving so I got to gawk as awkwardly as I wanted out the windshield

Good Morning Arizona.

Good morning

Today, just now, this morning

I got a really long Facebook post from Jeannette that made me cry.

Sometimes I forget and I'm so sorry that I do.

Sometimes I want to forget and that 

is also regrettable.

But it goes to show that I still appreciate things that are said over the internet. The fact that I was told in a really indirect and passive way does not change the fact that Jeannette's words (and in previous entries: Beth's, Liz's and Lexi's) had a profound impact on my days.

Jenny, I love you too. 

Old

Today

at a red light on Santa Gertrudes and Imperial, I watched two insanely old men in the car next to mine, one of them with really long hair and beard and the other with no hair on his head to speak of, apply hand ointment.

I was not sure if this was going to be today's "moment", but nothing better happened. and this was pretty good.

Rude

Beth Joy Cissel is a rude girl.

Maybe because our numbers are so few, I get overly giddy about this sort of thing. But seriously now: ska is the best music ever. ever.

Beth-cee, we will, and I repeat will, skank it up when you return to SoCal