My tongue is in my hand…

Archive for the ‘friendship’ Category

So, I have been minimally participating in the two challenges I posted about prior to this post. This month has not been as conducive to writing time as I’d hoped it would be. I have written some poems and started a novel. Barely started, but started. This is actually a pretty big deal for me, since I haven’t even wanted to start a novel, had any characters, ideas, outline, or research prior to Nov 1st when I wrote the first 1,542 words. Now, it’s brewing in my head, and though I won’t meet the nanowrimo challenge, it’s got me started on a good thing. I’m not sure what I’ll do about the PAD challenge. I can most likely complete it…and I suppose I’ll put together a chapbook? May as well do this…I’ve got to do something with my poems and this would be a good experience.

In other news…I turned 26 a couple of weeks ago, and have had a good two weekends of friends and family and celebrations.

In sad and silly news, book club had a rift, resulting in one member leaving to a new book club.  The member leaving happens to be my dearest friend in the group, so I will join her, and stay in old book club as well. Make new friends and keep the old (just like the  girl scout song).

Work life is…ever changing. I’m just holding on and doing what I do – help people as best I can.

Money is…short. I’m constantly floating payments around, robbing from peter to pay paul, having to tell people I do not know whenI can pay them, and just not opening the bills I know good and well we can’t pay, while trying to still live a fairly joyful life and indulge in little things because that’s what you do when you’re poor. You don’t pay a bill on time and you go out to eat and buy a shirt because damn it, you want to and there’s no other way to do it.

I had to use money we saved for Christmas and money I got for my birthday to fix my car. Again. And used the rest of my b-day money to get our phones turned back on. My dad and mother in law made me promise I’d use the money on myself, and technically, I did.

Home life is…quite honestly driving me insane. IN SANE. As in, I consistently feel as if I am losing my sanity. I feel as if it is wrong to go into it much more than that, but, should I lose my sanity, all the ridiculous details may spill themselves on a drunken blogging rage one night.

My family life outside of the home is really not much better. My dad claimed he was going have to pretend he only has one daughter (not me) after a very stupid and pointless fight about the holidays and in-laws. After about two weeks and a good fight complete with me hurling f-bombs in front of my parents (at my dad), and my dad claiming he will just not celebrate Thanksgiving or Christmas anymore, the problem resolved itself with my sister in law’s work schedule, at least for Thanksgiving. My dad then bought me a very nice watch and necklace for my birthday, along with cash, and bulbs of my grandmother’s favorite flower to plant in my flower bed. He is now torturing my sister on a daily basis. I am apparently back in the family? We are watching Flashforward together this week, so I guess so.

Socially though, my life rocks. So, that’s something.

My library items are about 20 days overdue, so that does not rock. That didn’t really fit into any other categories, I thought I’d just like to note that.

My dog is super cute and does not drive me crazy though, because he’s just so damn cute and fluffy. Even when he uses the bathroom in the house.

Natalie on the other hand, has been trying my nerves severely, but then I feel like a really shitty mom for not being able to handle it and being short with her – like all the time.

There’s so much more (there always is), but I’m done for now.

 

 

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chat

Posted on: October 25, 2009

11:26pm Bex:
question
so, why are you the only person on my chat out of 317 people?
i actually checked to make sure I still had friends and they didn’t like mass delete me

11:27pm Rae:
rotfl

11:27pm Bex
i mean, doesn’t everybody get on facebook like 10 times a day?

11:29pm Rae:

it’s kind of sad it made you check to see if you have friends
i have 28 people on

11:29pm Bex:
well it’s pretty odd
see!
what’s up with stalker?

(Rae’s status reads: stalker is back- “You still are the most interesting white chick I ever met. lol lets
just say chick in general lol and I mean that wholeheartedly.
I’ve went on dates with 3 other white chicks on this site.
All a hot damn mess lol.”)

11:32pm Rae
frog boy is back. that’s part of the email he sent me

11:32pm Bex:
who is that?

11:33pm Rae:
i had to tell you about him, he kisses like a frog
he’s 33 lives in the ghetto with his grandma
and wanted me to have his babies

11:34pm Bex:
THAT IS ROTFL
and he doesn’t think you’re a hot damn mess?
little does he know…lol
why did you kiss him?

11:36pm Rae:
that’s why i can’t be friends w/guys. i always feel like i have to do stuff
you want me to send you the email

11:37pm Bex:
please do
whatever happened to your age range standard?
just threw that out the window didn’t you?

11:38pm Rae:
threw a lot of things out of the window.
age, smokers, druggies. some rules are made to be broken…
i was wrong

11:39 Bex:
yes you were
you should just bend them a little, with good reason.
and boredom should not be that good reason

11:40pm Rae:
i wasn’t bored, i decided maybe i was missing out on something great by being too picky

11:41pm Bex:
fail

11:42pm Rae:
true story
how’s the bodie situation

11:42pm Bex:
okay. i’m on them all the time

11:43pm Rae
having a dog makes you not even need another kid

11:44pm Bex:
truest story ever
jason just said the major issue with the dog is he is messing up the carpet.
and he begged for tide with bleach the other day. he is such a girl

11:45pm Rae:
yea, that is sooooooooooooooo major

11:46pm Bex:
there is still no one on my chat. not that I mind talking to you.

11:48pm Rae:
i’m starting to think you do. maybe they made themselves invisible to you

11:49pm Bex:
whatevs. why would they do that?
you need to start bringing me to screen your dates. say i’ve got to bring my sister
she’s married, but needs to get out

11:52pm Rae:
yea, that’s what morg and chels said too

11:53pm Bex:
i’m reading this email, did he graduatemiddle school? are you sure he’s 33?
wth?
he can capitalize words in the middle of the sentence, but not at the beginning/
you know that drives me crazy

11:55pm Rae:
he actually calledme his “rae of light”

11:56pm Bex:
that is what the term wth was made for.
although if we were in middle school, that might be sweet

11:57pm Rae:
i actually have a date fri

11:58pm Bex:
yea, with who? how’d you meet
location
occupation
age
criminal record?

12:00am Rae:
online, 25, tega cay, he builds patios and houses and crap,crimnal record i dunno

12:07am Bex:
okay, like he builds them on a regular basis or he helped someone build them one time
you know

12:16am Rae:
lol..no its like a company

12:17am Bex:
good, good
license?

12:17am Rae:
yes

12:17am Bex:
okay, passed the prelims

12:17am Rae:
he has over 800 movies and a projector screen!!

12:18am Bex:
oh no. DO NOT go over to his house to watch a movie on the first night!
but otherwise
that is awesome
and so you

12:18am Rae:
lol no he wanted to go to the haunted house with me on friday but i told him i’ve already been..so hes thinkin of somethin else to do

12:19am Bex:
okay…don’t be a sucka
that would be meepy, you know?

12:20am Rae:
lol..i mean it would but at this point i dont even really care i just want to have fun

12:20am Bex:
i know, but “fun” can make you want to slit your wrists the week after…right?
😛

12:21am Rae:
dependin on what my expectations are goin into it

12:21am Bex:
true story

12:22am Rae:
if i know they dont want anything serious and i know i dont either i’m ok

12:22am Bex:
yea, on the same page and all that

12:22am Rae:
yea

12:22am Bex:
so smokestack is a done deal?
or whatever you call him

12:23am Rae:
what??

12:23am Bex:
josh

12:23am Rae:
lol oh i was like who the hell is she talkin about
yea hes done with me so i have no choice

12:24am Bex:
hehe.he’s not ready for you lady. he’s got to get his shit together

12:25am Rae:
its not even that he just doesnt care never did..it was just all bs

12:25am Bex:
he said that?

12:26am Rae:
no i know that

12:26am Bex:
so, definitely no druggies or recent druggies
keep that rule

12:27am Rae:
lol

12:30am Bex:
i was thinking the other day, that if we played the drinking game “I never”, we would be able to annihilate each other.
i’d start with: I never dated a guy who kissed like a frgo
frog
and you’d drink

12:31am Rae:
and i’d say i’ve never cheated on my bf..and u’d drink

12:32am Bex:
and it’d be on

12:32am Rae:
lol that it would..might actually be fun

12:32am Bex:
totally
i never made out with someone on the ground at a football game

12:33am Rae:
lol if it had only been just that
man i’m havin trouble thinkin of stuff for u..i think u have WAY more shit on me then i do on u

12:34am Bex:
haha, possibly, but you never know
and yea, i was being nice in describing it as “make out”
hehe

12:35am Rae:
lol..well chick i’m off to bed and i’m goin to ponder the dirt i have on u..

12:35am Bex:
haha. love you

12:35am Rae:
love u more nite

12:36am Bex:
goodnight
and you don’t love me more
loser
yea
i’m doing that

12:37am Rae is offline.

Everybody has a love story. Most of us have several. Not just a love with a person. But a story about love. What we love, why we love it, how we’ve been loved, what it does for us- this love. How it saves us, how it changes us. All our love stories take us places, bring us to people. Ultimately all our love stories coincide. All the love stories of time collide. I believe they collide, coincide, in the big love- God.

As I write that line, I think of atheists, I think of agnostics and I think…I’m sorry. I’m sorry that for whatever reason you have come to the conclusion you have, because God is incredible. This love is incredible. But it’s there, always, so should you ever dip your toes back in, I hope the water is warm enough to entice you to come in and be open again. I hope the people around you radiate the intoxicating, unconditional, empowering, encompassing, liberating love of God. Because it’s so intensely beautiful. Insanely intimate. Completely customized. It’s not a bunch of rainbows and flowers, but it is just a whole new level of living, and whole new experience of consciousness. I’m not talking about any church or religion. Just God. The love that is God and everything that does in a person.

So, back to the love story. I have love stories about boys, of course. I have love stories about friends, about family, about softball, about the farm, about my youth group, about the campground, about writing, about music, about chorus, about Caribou, about coffee, about jewelry, about work, about my child- about so so much. I know people who have love stories about cars, motorcycles, guitars, furniture, restaurants, trinkets, hobbies, books, movies, traveling. Anything you can think of, someone has a love story for it.

I think sometimes we don’t realize how much God cares about our love stories. But I believe sincerely that God cares about our love stories. Because they can all lead us to God. Love empowers us, validates us, encourages us, lifts us up, moves us forward, holds us together, opens us up. Because God and love are ultimately one in the same, the more we practice and learn of love, the closer we dwell with God. The more we develop our understanding and sense of love, the more we see God in our daily lives. God is as near as we allow. God is everywhere we look for God.

I’m not working off any theologies here. I’m just working off the light in me. The light around me. I’m just working off experience here. That’s really all there is, no matter what anyone else says. Everyone’s ultimate love story is between themselves and God. No one else could possibly understand all the intricacies of it. It is that intensely personal. We have to remember this. Our love story is ours. Other’s love story is theirs.

I’ve written before about how in the face of all the brokenness of people’s lives, I’ve come to see life as art. As a massive work of art spanning all time and space. We can’t always see the beauty, but it’s a work in progress, and we are all part of the beauty, there is beauty in all the fragments, if we’re open to new kinds of beauty, if we’re open to love, we can begin to gather the beauty in our lives, in our own brokenness. We’ve got to look outside the boxes.

If we live in love, we carry light that makes it a little easier for us, and those around us, to believe, to catch glimpses of these things outside our initial line of sight-outside of those boxes.

If we decide to believe so, to see it as so, God gifts us all the time with lovely things for our love stories. Like a lover who knows all our quirky favorites and silly pleasures and goes out of their way to indulge us, we can see that God does the same. God is constantly courting us, if we pay attention, we will see it. If we let go of all the “supposed to’s” and just be for a while, just be, God will catch our eye. Because God is always there, always moving around us, offering us beauty and love.

God is also always allowing us the dignity of decision. God is always within reach, but there’s a distance between us that God leaves to us to decide to cross, and when, and how, and of course, how often- as we are always free to go where and when we choose.

Our ultimate lover is God. It is the epitome of all the love we’ve ever had or wanted. Everything we’ve sought, everything we’ve experienced- amplified to perfection. Our ultimate love story is the one we develop between ourselves and God.

We get excerpts of our stories and pass them out to others, read a column or two of theirs. We make cameos or play pivotal roles in the stories of those we encounter. We are all contributing editors to one another’s stories, though we all have our own, which we understand in a way no one else can. That’s why we each get our own story to put it all together in. It is constantly forming, never quite ready to go to print…It’s intimately ours and still a part of a larger work. The creative collaboration of all creation.

All our art, all our love, carefully rolled into one ultimate piece that we will one day get to look at, together, and revel in. The fulfillment of our efforts in life, in love. The fruition of determination and hope.

Isn’t that beautiful? Isn’t that a a story worth following? A project worth working on? Something to believe in? It is for me.

Art. Love. Hope. Promise. God. People. Stories. It’s all we’ve got. It’s all beautiful. It’s all worth it.

Through various first hand sources, I have gathered entertaining information regarding the latest ministry efforts of two sister churches. Well, to be honest, they aren’t sister churches, they are a split off of one church, but they should be (could be!) sister churches, so I, because I can, will refer to them as such. I will refer to one as home base church (hbc), and one as grass roots church (grc). Those are my personal nicknames for them. You do not have to like them. You, in fact, do not have to read this at all 🙂

So, home base church had Vacation Bible School (VBS) this week. In case, unlike me, you do not live in the Bible Belt and have no idea what VBS is, it’s basically Sunday School on Prozac. If you don’t know what Sunday School is, you should just use context clues. It’s like school, on Sunday…and it’s at church, so it’s about church, the Bible, etc.

I’ll tell you right now that the selling points of VBS are whatever theme-based decorations, snacks, and songs you have. This year’s theme for HBC was a camping one, and the set up was awesome. A lot of effort was made- and it shows. The sanctuary stage really looked like a mountain campsite. Good job guys! The snacks were also awesome (so I’ve been told), and the music had “music videos” with kids doing the dance moves (which all the kids 7+ seemed to really enjoy and try to emulate).

Their adventure happened Tuesday night (night 3) when during a thunderstorm, the power went out and stayed out leaving all the kids (including toddlers and babies) and however many adults, to make their way by cell phone light for the next 45 min or so, waiting for parents to pick up the kids. Too bad they gave out mini flashlights for all the “campers” to take home the night before! It’s been reported that some campers had to leave their pizza rolls in mid-bite due to the power outage, and the pastor’s son apparently RE-FUSED to abandon his goldfish snack. No sir, he said. I believe grandpa had to step in. After the screaming subsided, there was apparently an impressive sing-a-long. You can’t keep a good VBS down.

Tonight was the wrap up, where all the campers got to show off for mom/dad/grandma/grandpa, etc. My personal favorite things were: a certain child who rolled around and I think, did flips on stage while everyone else tried hard to sing and follow the motions, a certain other child who was so completely hyped up about performance that when there were not set motions, he was throwing punches in the air and jumping around like he was about to kickbox (watch out devil, he’s ready to rumble!), and a certain teenager, who I know of as an outdoorsman, who had been helping out and apparently knew all the motions and dance moves and stood by the stage demonstrating for the kids. When I asked him about this later, he confessed that it was his secret talent. Looks like the cat’s out of the bag now! Don’t you think So You Think You Can Dance could use an outdoorsy guy? 😉

Grass Roots Church had and outreach project this week (Wednesday night). In preparation for this event, my oldest friend reported that she was attacked by fire ants while putting out flyers in the community, to which she said: “Are you freakin’ kidding me? I’m doing God’s work here!” The fact that she talks to ants that bite her is one of the very things I love so dearly about her J

So, the project was to go into a nearby community that is very needy and pass out nonperishables and a hotdog meal. The flyers that my dear friend sacrificed her little flip flopped feat for were apparently blown away (probably in the same storm that knocked out HBC’s power). So, no one knew they were coming. It was reported that an inebriated fellow told them quite colorfully to remove themselves from the premises upon which they stood. He apparently did this with enough vigor for one mom to put her kids away in the car…Yay! Jesus loves you!

Also, a man I know of as a Sunday School Teacher and Deacon apparently was packing some heat, just in case. This is all well and good, but I can’t for the life of me imagine him pulling a weapon, ever, for any circumstances. Now, I could see him frying you up some eggs and bacon at an all church breakfast, and reciting some Max Lucado, but brandishing a weapon? Hard to imagine.  I suppose he has a secret side of him as well J

The outreach turned out just fine, around 60 hotdog meals were given out, with some people coming back for 2nds and 3rds. I’m assuming much of the nonperishables found good homes as well. This is one of many out in the community-free food-no strings attached events/outreaches that this group has done in this community and I hope it’s getting the point across…love. There is love, big love, God’s love.

In keeping with that train of thought, back to HBC. I’ve got to say, watching the kids up there on stage made me think of what a good thing it is, to get in front of a bunch of people and know that even if you roll around, miss your cue, kickbox, or even get it just right, you are loved, praised, and embraced just the same. Because that’s love. That’s God’s love.

And that’s what both churches are doing their best to do, within their communities, and in their own ways- love.

One thing though, HBC: I get that pixie sticks are cheap and stuff, but really? Goodie bags with sugar sticks? I guess that’s what we get for letting you take the kids 5 nights in a row 😉

UPDATE: You know what the end of VBS treats were at GRC? A massive pixie stick.

Oh yea, God has a sense of humor.

Clay always apologized for the Monte Carlo. And for Saturday nights at the dirt bike track. I didn’t mind either one. But Clay played by the rules, and as a rule, I suppose teenage girls don’t want to ride in old beat up cars and go to dirt bike races. I don’t really know, I’ve never fully played by any rules like that. So it was fine with me.

I like the smell of racing fuel, because it makes me 15 again. I liked riding in his grandfather’s old Chevy truck, because it reminded my of my grandfather’s old Chevy truck. I liked stopping at that old do-it-yourself car wash in Mint Hill late at night to spray off the truck and the bike.

And you know, it’s not like all we did was ride around in old vehicles and go to dirt bike races. We used to hang out after school at his house, when it wasn’t football season, or track season. We used to drive out to Steak and Shake in Pineville; I loved going down highway 485 back then, it was all so open, the sky was always splattered with sunset colors on our way down, and it was usually  moonlit on our way back.

He used to make dinner sometimes, Chicken Parmesan. It was just him and his dad for a long time growing up, so he wasn’t opposed to doing domestic stuff…it was just the stuff of living.

After football games, he usually just hung out with me instead of the group, I don’t really know why, but that’s what we did. Well, there was one time we got about 9 people in his dad’s Grand Prix to go to Ci-Ci’s Pizza with everyone, and one of those people definitely counted for two.

We spent a lot of Saturday nights on my couch, watching MADtv with my sister Rachel. Once, we decided to get hot chocolate and donuts from Krispy Kreme. We seriously ate like 3 cream filled ones a piece and were sugar buzzed all night.

A few times, we parked the truck in a field near his house, laid a sleeping bag in the truck bed, looked at the stars (and stuff).

He had a tattoo of a dragon on his hip. Once, on April Fool’s day, he told me that he had it expanded to go across and fill up his back, and I completely believed him.

Our favorite place to go out was King Wah, for Chinese. The owner, Sonny, was so funny, asking if you wanted ocean view by the lobster tank. Or joking about ordering a Big Mac. It really is too bad that place burned down and became some kind of Latino store or something.

He knew I loved Italian though, and took me to little Italian places lots of times too. Once, he heard about a Thai place across town and took me there. Towards the end, I think he thought he was boring me, so we started going to Hockey games and concerts.

We went to the beach one year, with his family. This prompted an “I guess we’ll put you on birth control” comment from my father, which both infuriated me and embarrassed me beyond measure.

We went to each other’s churches and youth groups, we went to family birthdays and holidays. Both of us lived 2 minutes from our churches. Both of our churches were named for our families. Both of us were really close to our aunts, uncles, and cousins.

On our first date, he picked me up and took me to a movie at the Arboreutm, we saw Patch Adams. It was the week after Valentines day and he had a rose for me in the car. Afterward, we went to Caribou for coffee (it was white hot chocolates, actually). I’ve loved that place since that day. On the way home, it started snowing. Snow is so rare here, it seemed like some kind of sign.

The next day he asked me to a basketball game at UNCC. We got lost, but got there. I think, after that, it was a done deal.

The Christmas we were breaking up, he gave me a perfect ring. It was white gold, a slender band that split in the front to form a little heart, and in the middle was  a little diamond. It was exactly something I would pick out for myself. It was such a contrast to what he gave me the first year, this big gold chain…I still have that ring. I still wear that ring sometimes.

Clay and I were always doing things for each other, to be sweet…leaving notes, buying things, surprises, that kind of stuff. I wrote him a lot of letters, a lot of poems. I made him a box that had a bunch of quotes all over it that he could keep the letters in. A lot of the quotes had something to do with worrying. He worried a lot. I think there were some Bible verses too, and song lyrics. The only thing I remember that I put on there for sure though was the quote “Ain’t no use putting up your umbrella til it rains” (or something like that). Oh yea, and I remember a Mariah Carey lyric “Thank God I found you, I was lost without you, my every wish and every dream has now become reality.”

He did say that I helped him relax. He told me that he had learned that from me after we broke up. The way he said it though made me sad, like maybe he just stopped caring. But I was glad to think maybe he didn’t think only bad things of me now.

Clay was a good guy. A good boyfriend. A good person overall. I regret so deeply the way we fell apart right there at the end. I just didn’t know how to handle myself the right way. I loved him the best I could, but I knew it wasn’t enough. We talked about marriage and I knew I could marry him, but it wouldn’t have been fair to him. And I guess not to me either.

That’s the best I can come up with, I’ve thought about it over and over. I tried to call him, before he moved, just to say I’m sorry for the way I handled it, or more, didn’t handle it. And congratulations on his marriage. I couldn’t find his number. And I couldn’t get the numbers I had memorized from so long ago organized the right way.

We never fought. Even at the end, I don’t think you could ever really say we fought. We hurt, we disagreed, we misunderstood, but we didn’t fight.

I think he thought if he did all the right things the right way we would stay together. But he did. He really tried his very best, he always made an effort. And we had it good, we really did. I probably never fully appreciated all his time, all his effort, all his Pep Boys paychecks that went towards date nights.

Yea, he was late for dates on a regular basis. Yea, he still carried a condom around even though I told him I wanted to wait (can’t blame the boy for holding on to hope, right? And it’s not like we didn’t regularly run the rest of the bases…). Yea, sometimes he would interrupt my “deep” thoughts to comment on the motor on a lawnmower…Those things annoyed me, but I don’t know, I guess I probably over analyzed what those things meant. But I’m an analyzer, so that’s what I do.

He was pretty straightforward and set in his beliefs and standards, and they were probably a little more “good ol’ boy” than mine…and there was the hint of the bigger concern in the back of my mind…Clay fits. Everybody likes Clay and Clay has a specific place to fit. He is always working toward that place.

Clay is a good solid Oak. He is strong and steady, good for support and shelter. Everyone wants someone  like that around. He branches out, slowly but surely, till he is tall and full. He can do or be many things to or for many, but he is exactly what he is, exactly where he is, and that is exactly right, exactly as it should be for an Oak.

I am the leaves and the wind. I am the water and the sun and the chlorophyll and the CO2. I’m like Clay, part of the same big picture, but I wasn’t enough like Clay to promise the promise he deserved. I fit many places, and do many things, but I do not have one place to be, I do not have one way to be.

But I never said it that way to him. I never said it at all really. He had the final word. I nodded silently in agreement over the phone because I had been painstakingly considering saying the same words to him…”I just can’t do this anymore”.  And he tried afterward to imitate what a friendship may be for two people who’d been as close as us…but it was too soon. I couldn’t find the line, so I didn’t really try the friendship. I didn’t know how.

But now, now I wonder how much any of that matters to him anymore. He may have thought it didn’t matter, because of how things went, because of Jason. But it did. It all did. It, quite obviously, still does.

I don’t know why it sticks out in my mind the most, but the smell of old Chevrolets and racing fuel always mean the same thing. It means I’m 15. I’m in the middle. I’ve got the wind in my hair. I’m inches from the most love I’ve ever known, and I’ve yet to consider that our time’s bound to run out; we’re just steady into the the night, side by side.

Why does it always feel like starting is the hard part? I guess that’s true for a lot of things. Anyways, what is it I’m wanting to say right now? Something about this music and wine and blackberry incense. I think, if we really look close enough at the things we surround ourselves with, we will see people in all of them. There’s a person in the bottle of wine, someone in the incense, someone in the music. There’s a person in this laptop. The people that affect us affect us in so many ways.

I just walked outside to get my laptop from the car. I love the sticky air of North Carolina. Granted, other places have sticky air, but it’s not the same as North Carolina’s; can’t be. I was driving with the windows down the other day, trying to figure out the words that go with the air. How would you describe the weight of it? The cool thickness of it when you drive between the old, tall trees and the overgrown honeysuckle of a back road right before the sun sets? What are the words for that?

I got the CD I’m listening to right now in the mail today. The Royal Greens. I ordered it online, via their myspace. The package had my address handwritten and I remembered how much you see in handwriting. I forgot about that. I forgot about writing and reading handwritten letters. There’s something so much more intimate about that. I miss that. I’ve been trying to think of someone to write ever since. Someone who could and would write me back, on paper. It’s a lot harder than it used to be. Not that I don’t have the friends. I’ve got a beautiful combination of friends, absolutely. There doesn’t seem much need for letters between us. Of course, I think we say things in letters that we wouldn’t say otherwise, even on email. So, I could try…

That handwriting was a little ghost-like. Not the actual writing, just the shape of the letters, looked like something I’d seen before, something that made my heart crash around before. Or still. You know how it is with things like that.

It’s funny, the things I think about needing to write on during the days, when I sit down to do it, so much of it seems pointless.

There’s this guy. His name is John. Or maybe he spells it Jon. I don’t really know. I also don’t know his last name. I met him at the coffee shop. We happened to be sitting at the same table one day, because we happened to have the same friend sitting at the same table. He always has at least one book with him.  If I have the good fortune of catching him there, I usually pick up his literature and flip through it while he plays chess (usually with Adam, or maybe Mark, or possibly someone else) right before they go rock climbing. I like them, they’re good people. They don’t mind talking, or not talking, they don’t mind answering questions or asking them. They don’t mind if I sit with them and ignore them while I do other things.  They don’t seem to mind if I chatter stupidly for a while. But the truly notable thing for the purpose of this post is, he is walking across North Carolina. He started at the outer banks and is walking to the mountains (I think).

He told me when I first met him that he wanted to do this, journaling the whole experience. I think it’s a great idea. I mean, logistically there are some issues, but I hope it’s great. I’m glad he’s doing it. Mainly because he said he wanted to. I hope he’s writing about it.

It makes me think of Eustace Conway and the book “The Last American Man”. I told John/Jon to read that book. Seemed right up his alley, considering his plan. Right now, I’m reading a book I got from paperbackswap by William Least Heat-Moon. It’s called “Blue Highways”. I find it fascinating. Also fascinating, “What Should I Do With My Life” by Po Bronson. The books are not the same, but similar in ways. I’m not much for writing book reviews or summaries, so if you want to know, you’ll have to google it.

Anyways, I’m sending good vibes John/Jon’s way. Maybe I’ll run into another mutual friend soon who’s heard from him. I’m interested to know it all…how many cups of coffee do you think that would take…?