nope. that's a pigeon, harold.

sometimes i think i put too much faith in people.
i can lift someone up so high, they think the stars are touchable.
i can comfort and elighten. i can trust and give tender care.

when i was a young girl, i had a best friend.
her name was alexis and we rode the bus, together.
her brother, alexis and i would play together and took turns pushing each other on the swings.
as a loner, i had very few friends. this made alexis very special to me.
then, one day, as we were riding home on the bus, alexis held my arms behind my back while her brother repeatedly punched me in the stomach.

i never really told anyone about that.
i couldn't even be mad, i didn't know what i had done.
i racked my brain for hours, trying to understand what i did.

the next day, i went to school, and alexis was gone.
her and her brother moved, disappeared.
i never saw them, again.

.

this person that i've written about on this blog, this man ...
he is a good man. he is capable of loving. he is someone i love.
yet, once again, i am clenching my stomach, curled up in a ball, trying to understand why people do the things they do.

in the case of alexis, she was a young girl who intentionally hurt me - maybe to see what it felt like, maybe because she did not understand what friendship is and how willingly i gave it.
in the case of the man, he is old enough to know; but it was not intentional.
sometimes, our feelings, our weaknesses, our pains manifest themselves as arrows, launched at the hearts of those who care about us the most because we know they can survive anything.

i am a survivor of many things.
i have survived deaths and births, heartache, various illness, divorce, marriage, car accidents, stitches, bike accidents, my teenage years, love, so many things.
but when we survive, we do so because it is the only option. a man in the sea, alone, must swim to survive or float to die. yet, in this case, i don't have to survive, i can just choose to understand and let the current move me to shore.

.

i will spare the details, but say this: it is so hard to have faith.
to wake up every day and try to believe in something or someone. to know that each moment of our lives may be adding up to some great plan. to give, willingly, to a stranger. to understand, without question, because we must and can not explain the miracle of another human being's life.

my days fill themselves, but i decide whether or not to enjoy their taste.
some might call this "psycho babble bullshit", a chain of meaningless statements which allow old women with cats to feel better about themselves, food for therapists. ... and i might agree.

but i don't care.
i am my mother's daughter.
my therapist who loves to collect sea glass and listens to enya of a mother's daughter. and i thank God that i am.
because then maybe i would never know how to have faith.

today, i read the bible for the first time in a very long time.
i read about Job and his struggles and how God answers him, practically railing at Job to explain the universe to him. and Job is, of course, speechless. and God says, pray and you will be forgiven. understand that you are just a man, one small man, and that your only importance lies in what path i lead you towards.
and Job prays and is forgiven and is blessed with bounty.

i am upset with God, sometimes. but then i remember i am but one woman in this large universe. and that i need only to remind myself that there is a path for me and every person i meet. and then, i feel more content.

whatever you believe - i hope faith is a big part of it.
faith in love, faith in your passion, faith in people.

and to my harold, i have faith that he will be happy. and we can someday be friends. but for now, i must understand that my happiness comes first.

goodnight, all.

harold: not pigeons.

life is feeling pretty surreal, today.
spent the majority of this weekend with that certain person i happen to still kind of maybe definitely yes have a lot of crazy ticklish excited nervous lovely feelings for. saturday, i went to the ice carnival and i was feeling a little down and out, went grocery shopping, and when i came back he was waiting for me. later on, city diner conversations with too much coffee your eyes sting and you don't know whether you are exhausted or the most alive and awake you've ever been.

after a saturday night and a good part of a sunday and early monday morning, together ... i can say this:
day dreaming is lovely; but while you are dreaming, the actual day is slipping by. for so long, i day dreamt about what it would be like to see this person, spend time with him, laugh with him, smile with him and when we did, it was lovely. but also, i fought with myself when i looked at him, thinking "why is he upset? in my dream, he isn't like this." i was starting to let him slip by because i refused to acknowledge what he was upset about or why he was upset.

over the past 48 hours, i have been to four diners. and at each one, there is the hope that i will have the diner talk and sip coffee stronger than an ox and listen to background chatter. so, i would sit and wait with my coffee and company ... and then, of course, it eventally came to fruition when i was relaxed and content. but we all romanticize conversation, our lives, our lovers, our diners.
the important part is separating ourselves from the reality and the fantasy.
the fantasy of my relationship with this person is that he will be in a better place soon, and we continue to be friends, and then eventually we become something else, and things are good and patient and kind and loving.
the reality of my relationship with this person is that he is going through a really tough time and my friendship is the one thing that i can give him which will not sway and bend or break. so, i put on my big girl pants and remember to set aside my feelings for the importance of something greater than my heart's desires.


this weekend was supposed to be so productive.
so full of reading and writing and studying.
but instead, i spent it with really great people.
and i patched the torn bits of my quilt.
and i stretched it out over my friends who need its warmth,
just as much as i need them under it.

to make a fort, a safe place, a hiding place, a home.
not to survive, but to live.
after all, the most extravagant life when shared with no one
is comparable to a beautiful symphony left unplayed
and taken to the grave.


one last thing.
happy martin luther king jr day.
here's to future peace.

rachel

and on the eighth day, God created chocolate and saw that it was good.

i just wrote a ridiculously long blog, and this page deleted it.
maybe this is a sign that i shouldn't write when intoxicated with anger and self pity. hmm.

basically what it said is that i am staying in today and listening to sad music and being sad and that is okay.
enough for now, enough.


huckleberry.

masters of fine arts in international badassery, sigma cum laude.

bad ass: (as defined by urban dictionary)someone who is so cool that their very presence is radiating with awesomeness.


lily emerson, a dear soul, once told me that she and a friend were enrolling in a certain "Bad Ass University" or B.A.U. because they wanted to be bad asses. this needed explanation, as i was surely stunned and questioned the entire philosophy.

she explained that being a bad ass does not entail being strong or drinking whiskey, it did not necessarily include leather jackets, motorcycles, impressive cheek bones or quippy-ness. it did, however, involve being awesome, which is what lily and her friend aspired to be: role models of cool, so to speak.

they would achieve graduating from B.A.U. doings things like:
being proactive.
focusing on their passions.
creating great and healthy relationships.
treating their bodies with care.
maintaining a positive outlook on life.
treasuring their happiness.

these things made them badasses because these traits embodied a great way of living, for example: "You can make sushi? Badass!" or "You rode your bike 20 miles? Badass!" (Insert high five or synchronized dance)*

...

i share this story because i always dream big and do little. my brain may not know how to do calculus or do scientific notation; but it can imagine and create. so, i've been thinking, with all this time left in my hands after i graduate, all this time, all this time to pay my bills and student loans and date and get a job...

and then, oh my god.
this time is my life.
i realized, suddenly - it's not measured time; it is my life.
and what time do i think i have to waste?
i could slip on a puddle on the way to class and wake up in a hospital four years later to a nurse explaining that i've been in a coma. it always seems like a silly little idea until that silly little idea happens to you.

a friend once explained this to me:
1. take an apple in your hand. what is it? an apple.
2. take a bite. is it still an apple? yes.
3. eat half the apple. is it still an apple? yes.
4. now, eat the entire apple. is it still an apple? no.

i always believed this to be true, until realizing the following fact.
while 1-3 are right; 4 is wrong. the apple is still an apple; it's just inside you, this time.

...

as i look at my life, i see many past adventures. i loved to explore as a kid, to be out and finding new nooks & crannies. to make something new from something old. to believe in where my legs could take me that a car could not.
and now, i find myself staring adventure in the eye, once more.

(are you ready? it's all going to come together ...now.)

i want to be an international badass because i've taken a few bites of my apple and it's still an apple and even though it's my apple; that doesn't mean God can't take it away at any. single. moment.

but i don't want to travel just for me.
sighting fireflies outside my window and following them towards the lake and into the woods as far as i could go for my own joy is one thing; catching them and sharing their light to bring others joy is quite another.

i want to do things. help people. teach. share.
yes, it was lovely to sit on a bench in italy at seventeen and eat gelato.
but i want to give something back, this time.
i don't believe i can save the world with theatre or cookies.
but i do believe i can be a badass, in the best way.

school starts tomorrow.

goodnight, moon.
and thanks for the light.

we're snowed in, let's make breakfast.

i woke up this morning with crazy, vibrant dreams in my mind.
i think i want to be a writer.
i watched a bad movie last night and didn't like it.
i don't understand why people want others to like what they do.
i never asked them to like rice pudding or decoupage.
i am celebrating my friend's 25th birthday, today.
i think 25 is a big deal. and so is sam, to me.
i bought a jacket yesterday with a huge hood, makes me feel beautiful.
i used to steal things, a lot.
i have now decided that everything i stole must be paid for or donated.
i am working towards that goal. it should take me another year or so.
i had no resolutions at new year, but it has given me resolutions.
i am still in love with someone.
i think i will love this someone for a long time, & hope they love me.
i believe in destiny. i believe in karma. i believe in magic.
i believe in poetry. i believe in friends. i believe in mothers and fathers.
i believe in using our hands to shape this world.
i believe in celebrating.
i believe in love.

and as much as i know that two people coming together again, better than the first time, is a silly, litte romantic idea. i have no other choice but to believe.
and hope.

happy birthday, sam.
twenty five years and in less than one, you changed my life.
friends like sam make the other days seem a little more worth celebrating.

and now, off to a snow day.

the fabulous destiny of ...

so, it's official.
i'm a hermit.

the girl that always had to see, do, be, become, play, drink, smoke, go go go, explore is ... well, writing to you. and not from a cafe or library, or sitting under a tree. i am in my very cozy little bedroom with lenny, my plant, for company. i am surrounded by things that make me happy. scarves and books; lamps and pictures; candles and the color green with marigold.

today was very eventful.
i woke up at ten and made coffee, ate granola and listened to music.
i read the news and wrote a little.
i did my dishes and cleaned my kitchen.
i read some magazines. the kind of reading when you're in the bathroom and then you realize an hour later, you should probably do something else and pull up your pants.
i did yoga and stretched.
then i attempted some of the workouts that was in a magazine, one of which included using weights ... i don't own weights. come on.
so, i used two heavy cans of beans.
(i have become very resourceful).
and as i listened to weezer and punched my black bean bearing fists through the air, i laughed. thinking, if someone saw me they would think i'm insane. but as i punched, i felt liberated, good about myself. so good, in fact, that i cleared out my entire closet and did pullups, hanging from the top shelf.
(go ahead and laugh, but when was the last time you did pullups? hmm.)
then, i had the notion to call my friend, Tamika Diggs, who is awesome, because she seemed to not be having such an awesome day. so, she came over and we had fajitas and talked about romance and drinking and understanding when a story of two people is really over, and when it is just an ;

after she left, i went to New Song church for their bible study: no one was there.
i suppose they're on a break for winter. i'll go again, next week.
then, jonathan goldstein, longtime good person and old friend came by.
and we talked for a few hours. and drank too much coffee. and talked about marriage, religion, love, sex, music, all things good. no, great.
and now, i'm writing... to you, whoever you might be.

i didn't do everything i wanted. but i did enough.
i had great conversation with two amazing people and did good by me and took a chance, even if there was no one there. and i wasn't sad, i didn't think my night was ruined because of it. because i knew that i always have my own company.

i have a sense of peace, now. and i like it, a lot.

for so long, i feared being alone. i feared what it would be like to take care of my own time and how i would fill it, or more importantly how would i fill it? as if my plans aren't enough. as if me, in a room, alone with my thoughts are an awful way to spend time.

.

spent a while thinking about soulmates today and talking to Tamika about it.
1. i always thought i have to have a soulmate, without whom; i would be incomplete. this means the other half of my soul, the other missing shoe to a pair.
2. that means that i think i'm incomplete and i need someone else to fill that; but i don't.
3. therefore, i don't need a soulmate.
4. therefore, i am complete, alone.
5. therefore, i rule.

so, today's lesson: i rule and i can bake my cake and eat it too. and if you don't like my cake, i could deck you in the face and knock you out with one punch. but i would never do that because it's okay to have opinions because you don't need to think like me, because you're not my better half, because soul mates don't exist. so, let's be friends, y'all!

amen & goodnight.

ain't no shame in being a fool.

so much to cover since last post.

well, for one, my dentist was not disappointed with my teeth. so, that's a plus. i have a small chip on my front left tooth and i asked about it and she replied "it's okay. for now, it just gives you character." thanks, doc.

last sunday night i ended up going to beale on broadway for their v.i.p. holiday party which was aaaaaaaawesome. lots of dancing and blues and drinks and oodles of fun with miss molly. i haven't seen st. louis city from that perspective in a long time and it felt great. i miss the adventure, the excitment, the bright lights on a cold night. and then, eat rite diner. which was not so good.

louisville: drove an hour and a half there, got sick, turned around and spent the next two days in bed with the flu. although it sounds awful, and it was for a while, i'm thinking it all happened for a reason. spent new years with close friends, eating fajitas, drinking martinis and staying up late.

new years day: full of being emotional and then a night at trainwreck saloon, which ended up being a trainwreck, leading to a much needed recovery. if you have more questions about this day and the two that proceeded it, you need to ask in person, because there is just way too much to cover in a blog. and considering that the only person who reads this blog, as of right now, i am having over for dinner tomorrow... well, that makes it simple.

summary of weekend:
friday - lots of crying, revisiting exboyfriends, more crying, slept with a pink stuffed bunny.
saturday - revolutionary conversations with my beautiful sister laura, cleaned my dad's house for three hours, drank wine with my dad, salad nicoise with mom & joe, went home and watched movie with my best mate, kate.
sunday - stayed in bed all. day. long. a trip to wally world, then coffee with ana lucasey and lots of discussions about god and boys and men and boys becoming men and everything. and more coffee.
so, it's monday morning, almost 1 a.m. and i'm about to share with my one woman audience, that i might be trading in my trademark cigarettes, jean skirt and whiskey for God. that's right. you heard me.

i see it this way: i've been walking around, aimlessly, for a long time.
and my feet are tired and sore. so, i'm trying on shoes and hoping a pair fits.
better to try on shoes then continue to walk around in the cold, purposeless. right? yes.
honestly, i have never in my life had so many people (strangers, old friends, new friends, relatives) contact me and set up plans. it's a-m-a-z-i-n-g. already, my week is booked with lovely visits, i have found hope for this next semester, and the time i used to spend crying on my bed is now spent writing or listening to good music or researching international volunteer work or being happy.

do i still feel sad? yes.
do i still miss him who shall not be named? definitely.
do i still have so many questions and worries and doubts? oh, yeah.

but there's time.

tomorrow: looking for a bible. my first bible. a bible that is beautiful and poetic and teaches me.

for now, starting to read a new book Blue Like Jazz. I'm purdy excited.

until next time,
here's to the possibility of change at any age.
and that i make it through the honeymoon phase of spirituality.

and p.s. i didn't smoke a single cigarette, today.