the old-school guestbook archives
my amazon wish list... my favorite astrologer... my favorite artist... yerba mate revolution! erowid: a travel guide for interior journeys... no more war: MoveOn.org United for Peace and Justice True Majority seek the truth: Common Dreams Unamerican Activities The Nation people I adore, diaries I read: rev.raikes ariana cubiclegirl epiphany glitter333 laurakay wammo the music: the asylum street spankers backyard tire fire blue highway bill camplin wendy colonna freedom tribe joules graves guy forsyth band hamsa lila hanuman libby kirkpatrick leftover salmon pamela means medeski martin & wood the motet the nice outfit nickel creek open road rose polenzani railroad earth south austin jug band string cheese incident taarka tha musemeant the devil makes three tim o'brien band trolley wild sage keller williams yonder mountain string band |
enough for now ~ February 10, 2002 - 1:50 a.m. back to the real world... coming back down after a few days running around with a band is always a bit of a transition. a shifting of gears. kind of an intense transition this time around, for a lot of reasons. for one, I wasn't prepared for the run to end when it did. I was fully expecting to go to the berkeley show and to take my leave from there. but the universe is funny, you know? it was raining, and my bike didn't want to start (almost as if it knew that highway 17 is a deathtrap in the rain), and every potential ride fell through, up to and including two sweet boys who seemed to believe that three people in the backseat of a bmw was a big "safety issue" (yeah, don't ask me). and by then it was just too damn late to find another way to berkeley. so I hugged the boys goodbye and headed back into some scummy bar to wait on the cab that would take me back to my life. but you know, it was okay. because I'd just had this really lovely, really good kind of day. we soaked at kiva, the first time I've been back there since the psycho manager got really hostile on me one strange night. psycho manager wasn't around, and I got to relax with my friends, and it was good. a really nice way to spend a rainy day. and then dinner. this lovely dinner which the universe conspired to land in my lap. sharing amazing food with someone I badly needed to get to know, drinking in the light in his eyes while he told me his life story, so much light I was drunk with it by the end of the meal. that light I carried with me to the scummy bar in the rain, and into the cab which would take me, abruptly, back to my life, to ozone and a friend's futon on the west side of town. and ariana called while I was in the cab, exactly who I needed to talk to, and by the time I got to the westside house, I'd made my peace with berkeley, more or less. because, there was, after all, that dinner. and I couldn't have asked for a better way to leave it. but and still, I was quiet that night, wrapped up in a sleeping bag on the couch, watching tv with ozone and just being. quiet. trying to find my way back. and then the next day we signed the lease on the house in santa cruz, and started getting moved in. we've got a futon and nightstands in the bedroom, and boxes and bags everywhere else. I think it's going to be really cozy once we get it all set up. of course, everything between me and ozone is hard and weird. apparently, my going away for a few days this week was harder on him than he expected. and I don't know what all else. he's communicating badly, confused about his feelings, and last night he slept on the livingroom floor rather than in bed with me. we both wonder why we're still here, sometimes. we're both learning a lot, and we tell ourselves that's enough for now, but the truth is that neither of us is getting what we need. but that's been true for some time. and we wanted to try this, wanted to go to santa cruz together, knowing that it might not work. but we're here, in santa cruz, attempting to put together some kind of home for ourselves. attempting to work things out. and we talked tonight, and didn't really resolve anything but felt maybe a little less crazy about it all, and when all the struggling made me too tired, I could just go. because we live in santa cruz. and I could walk to libelula, and have an amazing dinner, and chat with pete and his friends. and pete told me about the Dead dance going on a couple of doors down, so after dinner I went and danced and played with the freaks and then went to kinko's to print out an application for the writing residency I want to do in vermont, and then I walked home. because I live in santa cruz, and I can. I can walk, I can be home, I can come home to find the boy asleep in bed instead of on the living room floor, and I can call it a minor victory. I can call it enough for now.
(((rings))) |