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last night i dreamt the moon fell down. i was in a room and went to the window and pushed the curtains aside to look into the woods and saw that the moon had fallen silently to the ground in the middle of the night while no one noticed. it was stuck between the dark trees and was so huge and glowing and bright and overwhelming to me, yet looked as if its brightness was slowly fading on earth. it had the saddest eyes overflowing with heavy tears and when i saw them mine filled too and i woke up just so, so sad. i have no idea what it means. but it the image was etched into my brain so vividly. i never remember dreams. i only seem to remember the ones where i wake up crying.
something inside me feels askew these days & weeks; i have no idea what to do about it. and my bedroom is such a disaster i feel like i have no safe, clean place to retreat to when i need some good ol' solitude. my mind races from the mess and makes me think of other things and i have no desire to clean it. i feel as though everyone around me has so much figured out and are making plans and i am completely floundering. utterly. i am usually happy in spite of this but lately i just feel so restless, and i wish so badly the i could have someone whisper the answer in my ear so i could walk on in confidence. and i also feel like i am in this consant struggle of not knowing how vulnerable and open to be with people - i don't know who to really invest in -aside from the few who are obvious. bruce and lyds and i have been talking about me moving to korea with them to possible be a korean model (ha!) or voice recorder, and while i am mostly joking, it is nice to even have the option of just dropping everything and going there to be with them. we shall see i guess. i think i expect too much from myself. and i can't stop.
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in some ways, today was miserable. i worked outside for 8 hours and my pants became waterlogged and my hands were shaking and my face covered in mud and i received a three pronged cut on my hand (minor, but stings). in some other ways, today was excellent. my boss told me to create a garden by the barn and so i embarked upon my first landscaping experience, which was thrilling. the actual creating of the garden is not so hard, with the soil and the large smooth rocks i collected to border it - its the selection of shrubs that i am worried about. which ones will work well together, compliment eachother, not invade oneanother, need shade, need sun, need lots of water, pruning, etc, etc. i want it to be epic. i have a feeling i am going to stay late after work often to take care of it. another reason why today was lovely was that i spent some quality time with my sisters minus michelle, and my mother. even though walking through bellis fair wouldn't have been my activity of choice, since i think i have a blood clot in one of my legs (self diagnosed), some good q-time was defintely in order. i feel so maternal about my littlte sisters, it is strange. it is a new feeling. i want to protect them from getting hurt, and from boys, from rejection and cutting remarks that might hurt them. i guess it is a tiny, tiny portion of how my parents might feel for them and me. they are just turning into little women. i can't even beleive it.
i feel like an old lady these days. again. i go to bed at nine thirty. i dress in gaudy floral skirts and dresses, and cardigans with every outfit. i feel tired all the time. my hips hurts. i think i have a blood clot in my leg. i enjoy a nice read in bed. i ride my bike in an extremely leisurely way. i feel like digging my cross stitch out. i drive an oldsmobile. i have enough clutter in my room to fill an entire house.
do old lady's blog? this one does.
goodnight my people.
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| i cut my own bangs out of desperation the other week and i look like a monk. i have for two weeks now. i'm getting used to it. today at work i burned both my arms pretty severely. at first i thought i was developing some sort of splotchy pink skin rash and was slightly concerned, but oh, no, thats a tan a'comin. i brought a box of jumbo freezies to work for the summer. now i eat one or two for my ten oclock break, my twelve thirty oclock break and my three o clock break. i had two within an eight minute span. i only felt sick for a few minutes after that. tomorrow i am taking a delivery to the sunshine coast for my second time. i am very happy about this. lisette is coming with me, and she is a good friend. she comes over during the week and plays monopoly avec moi, comforts me after movies like 'painted veil' and 'p.s. i love you' and tells me evenly 'beth, stop fake crying into your hands' and i usually listen to her. she is even waking up at four thirty in the a.-fricken-m. to go on this epic journey. also, we have been friends since we were zero. that sort of history is comforting sometimes.
right now i am reading two books; love in the time of cholera and slaughterhouse five. and also one more book about baptism that my elder would like me to read. so i do. in a few minutes, once i take my towel turban off, me and my mother are going to value village. i haven't been in a while. it was my idea. my arm is burning with heat.
i feel on the verge of many big decisions that are forever daunting. i also... ya.
sometimes i don't feel completely genuine, which makes in impossible for me to expess myself clearly, so i will write about it later perhaps. or perhaps talk to you in person, which would be nice indeed.
i am glad for the sun. really truly.
p.s. i like this picture.
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| tonight i decided to clean and organize my bedroom. this turned into me crawling under my bed and opening up shoe boxes filled with memories and pictures. i can't decide if is healthy to be such a pack rat because looking at some of these things bring back almost too much emotion. i read so much from my journals when i was in ireland and i had wrote pages and pages of descriptions of my friends - rachel, dara, sharayah, and all the quotes i had written down and i actually laughed out loud so many times reading the funny things chantal said. my heart feels like it is breaking. i would never have remembered had i not written it down. honestly. one journal entry i wrote in serbia began like this:
FREEZE. remember the faces. remember the smiles. remember the holes in the socks. and the lack of heat. remember the poverty. remember how i did nothing to deserve to be able to be the blessing. nothing. remember how theres more important things than what i'm wearing or how much money is in my bank account. or what my hair cut looks like. or which friend didn't happen to call that night. or any of the other shallow things i let my life and mind be consumed with. i forget so easily. i wish i could write with permanent marker on my heart and mind and on the palms of my hands - remember. i need to freeze these moments. i need to carry them with me. not just till the end of outreach, or dts, or for a couple of months. forever. please god help to remember their faces and the places they called home, and the welcoming arms, and the little baby so curious. how they deserve better, how i deserve worse. how none of us deserve at all. when i go home help me not to become a consumerist once again. because i was so superficial at home. i still am. but i learning, slowly. help me not to be consumed. i don't want to die of consumption.
i forgot.
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| oohchachaya. i sit here on a large brown leather couch listening to my sisters chat as they play cards with my mom and i've been trying to be productive but all i've managed is one page of typed words and two layers of gel medium on my collograph. i am feeling strange and pretend words are starting to float around my brain and my restless legs are making me jiggle and wriggle. last night was spent in a sushi karaoke restaurant on the downtown east side owned by a lovely man called Hoko. it was smokey and packed with people and music flowed and laughs were loud and dancers danced. i loved it. i realized its a beautiful thing to have long time friendships where you can spend time with one another in wonderful dimly lit joints in vancouver and feel happy just to be there together. this is how i feel.
i am reading lazily through my school notebooks as i try to write a paper for my 20th century american history class, and while most of the margins are filled with drawings of my professors eyes over and over again, i scribbled a few words as well. to share with you:
thank you God for the ability to heal oneself (thank you for scabability)
barak obama... one day it won't matter
his whiley sounds drifted to me - desperate, heartfelt, eastern - through the open doors
shivering yet confident, wavering yet strong.
slam your fingers in the door, and oh boy will they be sore!
kruschev blood blister
need to sleep, friggen sweet tired.
plugged up & fugged shut
there's pollution in my solution.
decimated. cremated. hated. waited.
chewy, chewy, holla!
oh but even now my paper still waits for me to be written. my feet are cold. my hands are cold. the tree outside is pink.
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