Other Side of Wherever

On my way home from the dripalator the other day I got stopped by the train. We have several different sets of tracks here on the east side of town so inevitably ones path will be blocked by at traversing train which is a pain in the butt in a way. But hearing the night's distant whistle is soothing to me so I don't mind really. I love trains. Love 'em. Before my parents divorced my dad had a model train track set up on a piece of particle board in the basement; little buildings, a mountain, etc. I just liked to stare at it. My neighbor had a huge one, filling up at least one large room in his basement; it had different towns and different trains (you totally can't believe you are friends with me right now, can you). In college I used Amtrak for almost any visit elsewhere; countless trips home, to Boston, to NYC. I loved taking the train because it was so low stress: show up (virtually no security), get on board, find a seat, fall asleep, wake up, do some homework, get a beer, fall back asleep. Trains are so quiet and couple that with the rocking motion its like taking an Ambien with a chaser of vodka. I loved seeing the other side of towns and places, not the good face they put on for airports and interstates. And the train from Syracuse to NYC to DC goes through some of the less than prettier parts of the eastern seaboard (here's to you Baltimore and Philly). I mean, wow.

I've met some strange characters on trains, one of whom I kept up with for almost two years, one who was a roadie for the hairband "Warrant". One day I'd like to travel across the country by train, stopping off in cities for a few days to sight see and then hopping back on to what lies ahead. The thing I hate about planes is there is no time for adjustment; all too quickly you find yourself on the other side of wherever without a whole lot of understanding behind how you got there. Trains at least let me see my progress. Sometimes knowing just how I got to where I am is worth infinitely more than the time I save taking a short cut.

Current Listen: Guggenheim Grotto's “I Think I Love You”.

Not a Mite Would I Withhold

So I got robbed last night. That's fun.

My little car was broken into through a cracked window while it was parked on Coxe Ave while I was at Quizzo. Took my 60G video iPod, my portable CD player, a $20 cigar and about $80 in spare change that I kept in a piggy bank for parking meters—all in all a little less than $500 (interestingly enough left my $120 Petzel climbing harness and my $400 Moonstone jacket as well as my bible, my EZ Pass and my “Lookin' Good For Jesus Lip Balm.” apparently not outdoorsy or into the Jesus...or drive the Thruway much). It's probably the last thing in the world I needed right now. I feel like I'm barely holding on anyway, this just made it a bit harder, like someone stepping on my fingers while I'm dangling from the ledge. That iPod has been my best friend since the day I got it (anyone who worked with me at Windy Gap knows this—it's the only reason I kept my sanity all those hours working alone) and now it sort of feels like my situation is being mocked—a “if you think that was bad, wait for THIS,” game the heavens seem to be playing these past few months. My heart and my confidence are completely shot. There is a lesson in all of this; something I am supposed to come to know. I truly believe God loves me and wants the best for me—deeply I believe this. It aches how much I believe this, even as nothing in my present situation testifies so. It is in my core that this is a Truth. There are blessings in store for me because I am loved. I have to keep telling myself that over and over, keep telling myself He will be faithful to supply all of my needs when my needs keep getting bigger by the day, get more complex and personal, get more savage and carnal. If ever there was a time for God's loving blessing to be poured it would be now. I'm ready to leave all this wreckage behind me.

“How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and everyday have sorrow in my heart?....
Look on me and answer, O Lord my God.
Give light to my eyes or I will sleep in death...
But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation,
I will sing to the Lord
for he has been good to me.” --Psalm 13

(the title of this post is taken from the hymn “Take My Life and Let it Be”...the line is 'take my silver and my gold/not a mite would I withhold/take my intellect and use/every power as you choose.' Ouch.)

Song Lyrics I Really Don't Believe

"Can't forget to stay real...to me it's like breathing." --Jennifer Lopez
(memo to J.Lo: breathing must be very, very difficult for you if staying real is something you have to be reminded to do. I sure hope you insure your lungs for the same amount you insured your legs. But thank God that's really you on Oprah. And here I thought it was just a roboJLo)

"I'm never gonna dance again. Guilty feet have got not rhythm." --George Michael
(I don't know...I mean OJ is a pretty good dancer and we all know how guilty he is)

"Never gonna give you up, let you down, run around and desert you."--Rick Ainsley
(Rick...oh Rick. You are just too ambitious. You make your girl sound like she's a dodgeball.)

"I'll make love to you like you want me to."--Boys II Men
(Well...what if I don't to make love? Did you think about that Shawn? Huh? No you didn't.)

"I'm all out of love"--Air Supply
(Dear Air Supply: love isn't like ice cream; you can't just run out of it. Also: love doesn't give you gas the way ice cream does if you are lactose intolerant)

"I was born in the back of a greyhound bus goin' down highway 41."--Allman Brothers Band
(Somehow I think your greyhound bus driver would kick your momma's ass off that bus long before you was ever born. Maybe you were born on the side of highway 41 after your mom was kicked off the bus, but on the bus? Nope. Side of the road is probably cleaner anyway.)

"If I had a million dollars I'd buy you a green dress."--Barenaked Ladies
(If all you bought me was a green dress with your millions...well let's just say you better HOPE you were lying. Maybe a green dress and some cows for the Heifer Project.)

"I still go to Taco Bell."--Fergie
(No you don't. You probably eat gold plated tacos.)

McSweeny's Clip of the Day

I read these a while ago and think they are hilarious. This is why I love McSweeny's.

Pros and Cons of Top Twenty Republican Candidates

Pros and Cons of the Top Twenty Democratic Candidates

I mean really. Wonderful. Remember kids, only 454 days til the inauguration of the robotic superbees. Or Stephen Colbert.

Bla Bla Bla

Isn't it funny how different we become based on our circumstance?

When I am settled, when I am provided for, when I am secure in where I am, I am more inclined to be secure in who I am. They all seem intricately connected unfortunately. I don't question my worth the same way, I don't struggle with bouts of doubts or worthlessness. It is much easier to be when being is fairly mundane and straightforward.

It is when I am so dirty in the process of living, when nothing I have (or don't have) is of any mention, when money is stretched so tightly it sings—it is then that the whispers of doubt become shouts. I hate the truth in that statement. Everything about me is called to testify and is found wanton through some court of private scorn and public image. And I hate that is happens over and over again, a lesson I am missing along the way somehow. I seem to only believe my worth when it is empirically obvious.

Sidebar: got a splinter under my fingernail on Saturday. I can't get it out without cutting my fingernail all the way down, and I really like my fingernail. But that shit hurts.

Nepotisim-ish

For some reason I'm thinking about photography, and I feel the need to plug two people who are not only amazing people and friends, but talented photographers. Seriously, check 'em out. They amaze me.

First is Emily Johnston. I know Emily because she moved to my hometown from Paris for one year of high school and we became friends and have sort of flirted with communication ever since. She is one of the most original and alive people I've ever met. A fascinating soul (and she's my friend who smuggled my first Cuban cigar to me in a french tampon wrapper. That's a funny story) and so gifted..and newly married! Check her out.

The second is dear old MakeJoeFamous, as we (The Bad Idea Girls) liked to call him. Joe and I went on several dates in summer of '06 but we both knew it was going absolutely nowhere. His talent blows me away, astounds me. His photos from Kristina and Joe's wedding were great and then he shot Rachel and Chris' wedding and I was SOLD. Check him out—just talent, emotion, everything. He also works for XM radio. When we were “dating” we'd ask how each other's day went. “Mine went pretty good,” I'd say. “I sold a few suits and had to yell at my associates to finish the damn shirt wall.” He'd say, “Wow, that does sound busy. I met Janet Jackson.” And I'd immediately hate him.

Anyway, some great photography from some great people.

While I am talking about friends, Stephanie (Schlosser) Chapman has songs recently covered by Tricia Yearwood and Bonnie Raitt. Earlier this year I was in Ingles and heard Bonnie Raitt singing her song and I got so excited I cheered loudly right in the canned foods aisle. Wanna talk about a great songwriter/great person—she's the answer. Love this girl. She's also an old high school friend/guitar buddy, incidentally she's good friends with Emily as well.

And can't forget Katherine McGinn and Andy Farkas, my friends that I am currently housesitting for here in Asheville (and, incidentally, I just realized I've been friends with Katherine for over a decade. She also went to my high school. As did Andy. That's a damn talented school if you ask me). Katherine currently has a gallery exhibit of her printmaking work in Richmond (they are BEAUTIFUL pieces, I saw them) and Andy has a few books out. My favorite of his books, Four Stories, is amazing. The squirrel story is my pick, you can read it and see his wood block prints here. I can't believe those pictures are hand-carved. You know when the people you care about are talented and you are so excited for them? My favorite part is watching other people who don't personally know them discover and appreciate their talents.

Go Skins

So my dear friend Brandt got drunk in a bar last night in Ashburn, VA. Ashburn is where most of the Redskins players live, so you see them around fairly often. I got a voice mail from Brandt telling me the Skins were in the bar with him and he was playing darts with Andre Carter...big #99 and was winning. Then this morning I get a message that Brandt gave my phone number to Jason Campbell, our star quarterback, and tried to set us up. He thinks we would be a great match.
I am perfectly ok with that.

Self-starter

Feeling pretty low about the whole job thing today. Frustrated, stressed, discouraged--you know, the whole gamut. Job options just seem to get smaller and smaller--stuff I want to do less and less. And I'm less and less motivated to look; I want to hide under the covers and cry. I want to believe there is a plan and a purpose to all of this and I do, but today I'm needing a little more than simple assurance. I'm needing an effing job.

Bah.

So I learned this year that I am allergic to cats and I'm housesitting for Katherine and Andy and they have three cats (and two dogs) and I can't breathe out my nose and my eyes itch. This sucks. I sneeze every few minutes. I hate being sick.

Friends (for now)

So this friendship thing with guys has me thinking. I have a problem with close opposite-gender friendships and this is why: they can work fabulously until one of the friends finds someone else they want to date and/or marry. Then the friendship is doomed. If I ever get married/am in a serious relationship, I don't want my husband/boyfriend to still be confiding in a girl friend of his, just as I don't want to be confiding in a guy friend of mine. If I'm married, I expect me to be my husband's best friend and vice versa and I don't want to be seeking that companionship elsewhere. I don't think it's good for any relationship, for trust, for building a life together. Close friends of the opposite sex become obsolete. So what is the point in being in a close friendship with someone of the opposite sex (whom you know you will never date) when from the start it will be a transient relationship? It's planned obsolesce! If someone can explain it to me I'd be more than happy to listen, I just can't see the point of being close friends with someone you will just lose to another. I want friendships that don't have such a shelf-life. I love having guy friends, don't get me wrong. I mean many of my friends are guys--great to hang out, have a few laughs, make fun of each other, etc. It's those really close, BFF type of friendships I don't see as rational. That's where the trouble lies. I mean unless he's gay, that close friendship is ending three ways:

1. You both fall for each other. Yippie!.

2. One of you falls/pines for the other. Rejected. Ouch.

3. One of you falls for someone else, ergo dumping friend. Friend is burn-a-nated.

I mean maybe I'm wrong, but those are the only conclusions I've ever witnessed. I know I'm sounding cynical, but I feel I'm being realistic. I simply don't want close guy friends, or at least any more of them. I'll keep my guy friends, but just at a bit of a distance.

Beautiful (I Guess)

Erin McKeown show: I feel the curse word is needed when I say it was the BEST FUCKIN' SHOW I HAVE EVER SEEN. Hands down. No question. I've seen her live four times before and by far this show at the Grey Eagle was the one to beat. I mean, dancing in the aisles, stompin', cheerin', banter, emotion—the gamut that concerts strive for but rarely run. First off, that little woman can simply ROCK. There was one song where she was rockin' out on her hollow-bodied Gibson and while playing guitar, sat down at the grand piano and started to play both. At the same time. Switched over to piano wholly, jammed out on that, and then played both at the same time before back to the Gibson. When you can keep playing your guitar simply on hammer-ons and pull-offs, you are an amazing guitarist. And she's barely 5'1”, a petite woman days away from her 30^th birthday. Trust me when I say if she comes near your town, you would do well to see her. If she sucks, I'll pay for your ticket. You will not be disappointed. Just...wow. Takes songs so well known by her audience and makes them completely new again—different tempos, licks, whatever. I was high on life after the show. And it only cost $10!

I went to the show with Doug, a fellow Erin fan. I will say it is very, very fun to be out in public with someone so very attractive on your arm. The girls sitting behind us stared when he came and sat beside me (I got there early to get good seats and was sitting alone for a good hour before he got there. They were silently judging me. Suckas). I got to be a little smug for a bit. We did some swing dancing to “Slung-Lo” which was fun and brief, the way dancing should be in my book. After the show Doug wanted to DTR and I've sort of sworn off DTRs (or, more specifically, R's) for the rest of the year but it needed to happen so it did. Stickin' with the friendship there. It works, don't mess with it. Please God don't mess with that.

(complete sidebar to any LVHS grads out there: I talked to Erin McKeown after the show for a while and she thinks she made out with Josh Berman in college. I was immediately jealous, and laughing very hard at the very same time, I mean what girl didn't want to make out with Josh B. at that time? He was our Jordan Catalano. Hilarious.)

Fluffy Nubblins

* There are two kinds of kisses: those that count and those that don't; those that matter and those that are obligatory or merely physical. I've had too many kisses that didn't count, and I don't want that anymore. I've changed my tune.

* You know who is great? Chris and Rachel. And what is great? This:
So excited for those two crazy kids--that baby is already way cooler than I could ever be.

* You know what is also great? Beef Jerky. I don't care what you say, that shit RULES.

*My winter wardrobe is way more extensive than my summer wardrobe. Yet another reason I love fall/winter.

* My blog is almost 5 years old. My first blog post was about wondering what I was going to do with my life. I could have written it yesterday. If in 5 years I can still relate to that post, someone beat me about the head and neck.

* I wish unemployment could be my profession. I feel I'm quite good at it. Maybe I should be a writer; it's practically the same thing.

* I've drank so much coffee lately I feel I may explode. I don't internet at home so I go to local coffee houses to use it and while there I need to buy something, hence the coffee. Holy crap I'm twitchy.

(Fluffy nubblins are the fictional mini marshmallows from Strong Bad emails at homestarrunner.com. If you got the reference, go you.)

Pirates on the Coast

So here are some photos from our trip to Charleston a few weeks ago. There was this pirate statue, and Lord knows I love me some pirates, and then there were these 5 old ladies who ended up with the tablecloth bandannas on their heads like pirates, and it just got us thinkin'. And a few gin and tonics may have been involved too.


Ok that last one is more thug than pirate, but I had been trying to teach the old ladies how to spell BLOOD with their hands. Like the gang. Don't mess with me, I got thug in my veins.

Another Mystery

I'm still thinking about the wonder conversation I had with Nate the other day.

My junior year of college I spent much of my spare time at a house three doors down that was home to four of my girlfriends. Holly was a duel Physics/Philosophy major who probably had a headache 90% of the time—I mean, I would if I was trying to reconcile those two. We were out on the front porch one evening and she expressed the desire to keep wonder alive in her life—that, in spite of pursuit of understanding and insight, a sense of mystery was crucial. I couldn't agree more.

I've never been accused of being intentionally ignorant and hope to keep that fact for years to come. I have a Bachelor of Science degree—technically, I am a scientist. But there are many things in life that I don't want to know the science behind and I don't think that makes me “ignorant” I think that makes me selective. Creative processes, music, emotions, faith, touch: beautiful things made more beautiful by their mystery. I don't know why one person's touch can affect me more than anyone else's, I just know it does and in that it is a gift. I don't know why heartache can be literal, I just know what how it feels. There are things made predictable and safe by science—electricity, weather, seasons, gravity, chemicals—and then there are the muddled interactions that cannot be made predictable, that science only knows in shadow and theory. Often these are what make up what I love most in life.

Don't get me wrong—I love science. If you know me at all, you know this. But science and mystery are mutually crucial. Nate told me I was just holding onto childhood; I told him he was a condescending, cynical bastard. I'm not saying we should only live by our gut (Thank you, Stephen Colbert/George W. Bush for “truthiness”) but some mix of the two. Understand the place of science and the place of mystery.

There is a part in “Good Will Hunting” where Robin Williams' character rips into Will, saying, “So if I asked you about art, you'd probably give me the skinny on every art book ever written. Michelangelo, you know a lot about him. Life's work, political aspirations, him and the pope, sexual orientations, the whole works, right? But I'll bet you can't tell me what it smells like in the Sistine Chapel. You've never actually stood there and looked up at that beautiful ceiling; seen that." It's the difference right there; the science and the mystery. Places for both.

Song of the Day: “These Friends of Mine”--Rosie Thomas. I love this song more and more each day.

Also: Found someone to go see Erin McKeown's Grey Eagle show with me...guess who is also a huge Erin fan? Doug. Whoa. Here's to you, D.

Misc. Monday

* Friday night went and saw Chatham County Line (bluegrass) at Grey Eagle with fellow socialite Nate--the concert lasted til friggin' 12:45. We didn't leave there until, oh, 1:30 or so. Whoa. Great show, the banjo player looks like Kenneth from "30 Rock" but with a beard. Made me giggle the whole show.

* Saturday wrangled ropes for Windy Gap then sped home, packed in 5 minutes, picked up Andy (Katherine has a big gallery show next weekend and had to finish several prints so couldn't come) and headed to meet Nate out at Lake James for a camping adventure. I need to camp more. I love camping; it brings joy not much else brings. Simple joy.

* Note: don't pack for camping in 5 minutes. You forget a whole lot.

* Food Nate brought: bratwurst, bacon, lamb chops, corned beef hash, eggs, cheese, bread and some potatoes. Meatfest 2k7. No wonder my face keeps breaking out.

* Sunday we left camping and drove straight to the Beir Garden to watch the 'Skins KILL the Lions. I was in the same clothes I'd been wearing for two days, I smelled like campfire and I was sitting in a bar, watching football with three friends. Priorities people, priorities.

* Today is my little sister's 14th birthday. Having her in my life is the greatest blessing I could have ever imagined. If any boy hurts her I will kill him.

* Saturday night Nate and I had a "discussion" about the place of wonder in a world full of science. I said I love having things in my life that I don't know the science behind; he said that was voluntary ignorance. He's also an engineer. Sometimes science can suck the mystery out of an experience. I never want love to become just a combination of pheromones, situations and chemistry. I never want to lose the art that is the science of creation.

What the Broke Should Do

Is make a list of trips I'd love to take but currently can't afford. Clearly.

Trips I'd Like to Take Sometime in my Life:

• Paddle Boundary Waters

• Sail the coast of Maine

• Watch Sunrise at Acadia National Park

• Train around Europe

• Camel Ride in Egypt

• Rickshaw in Thailand

• Hike through Banff National Park

• Gondola in Venice

• Eat beignets at Cafe Du Monde in Jackson Square again

• Cattle drive in Montana

• Grand Canyon on a donkey

Job Searching for Dummies

* Why does every single job posting in Asheville involve "be your own boss!!!!!!" or a nursing position? Are we really a town of diseased entrepreneurs? I had no idea, I better catch up.
* Charleston, SC = Awesome.
* People really work 6pm-4am shifts? Who are these people?
* Hardee's still exists? Really?
*I hate this. It all makes me want to vomit.
* "There is no lapse in God's goodness." Thanks for that, Natabee.
*I could be a park ranger. I'd get a hat. That's awesome.