i'll let you know when i get there

today i opted to sleep that extra 20 seconds it would have taken to put a smidgen of effort into a costume.  instead, i threw on the blue renaissance faire shawl thing and called it a holiday. walking onto campus is like walking into a Spirit Halloween store or something.  these people really go for it.  those little costumes that make you look like a little person riding an ostrich- nine piece ensembles- costumes that require very specific and strange hats... i wonder if these people have special rooms in their houses dedicated to storing these once a year outfits. and then there was me.  i was rocking the space where people could tell i had put SOME kind of effort into my costume but obviously not enough to really BE anything.  this is the kind of special space where people don't really bother to ask "what are you?" Except one.  One student asked. "I'm comfortable,"  I said. Later, M texts me.  She was working at the school when I rocke...

"Run mad as often as you choose,         but do not faint."                 -Jane Austen

Don Draper, you kill me. http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poem/15741

the so small sphere the impossible distance from there to here an intersection of opposing lines that meet sometimes sometimes "sometimes i feel like i'll float away if Don isn't holding me down" "the hardest part is realizing you're in charge" (2:10) i can barely look at her her face is haunted by the structure of another but oh, her heart how her heart and mine could talk talk ourselves true *disclaimer- I wrote this during Season 2 or something.  I haven't quite lost my mind like she does in later seasons.

my chin is UP i am 6 feet tall i am a juggernaut of optimism and possibility i am twenty times alive and surrounded by twenty doors all wide open and aglow it is my reason my grail my gold medal my framed picture on the mantle my passion my beatrice my friday afternoon with the whole weekend ahead my focus my everything burrito and it is all right on time (to wake up and to BE alive)

it's starting. i can feel it. i'm gonna chop my hair off any day now.

Words that I really dislike: Hubby Shall Touche

i had three drinks walked three blocks home i am thirty tipsy and life is so very singular

Everyone thinks they know what they value in other people.  Questions like, "what traits to you value most in a friend" always have smushygushy answers like "authenticity" or "honesty" or "humor" or whatever.  But really, how do you even measure any of those things?  How can you analyze a person's level of authenticity?  TRULY measure honesty?  Humor is subjective.  I mean, c'mon. What we really mean is that we like people who are like us in ways that make us feel good about ourselves, or who are different from us in complimentary ways that also make us feel good about ourselves. We like people that make us feel good about being their friends. We like people we like. The end.

often, the remedy for anxiety or ennui or melancholy is as simple as a novel. a disappearing act for which there are few substitutes that thin asian man talking with earnestness and deliberation about the life-changing awakening he experienced through experimenting with psychedelic drugs.  he spans the whole chasm of topics,  talks about how unaware so many of us remain for our whole lives because we so easily buy in to what we are told or conditioned to believe.  the thing is, the guy sounds  enlightened.  like, the whole "vibe" thing, he has it.  he has the "i am operating from a different plain than most" vibe that makes me so curious. it's like the religious cloud i used to walk on, but devoid of the religiousness.  just an... awareness. that parking citation on the red car outside and those people who do not pay:  are they outlaws?  idealists? and those people who do pay:  upstanding citizens?  blind conformists? exist...

 It seemed like the Michigan State campus was always full of chanting groups of people holding signs.  There were sorority shenanigans and whatnot- people with petitions to sign- and there was almost ALWAYS a group of people with signs protesting outside of the GAP. On one particular morning was one of those particular moments when you are able to step outside of your current moment and view present self as a speck among many past and future specks.  On that particular morning, I remember feeling really young- like my whole life was ahead of me- life my mind was a just-opened jar of play-do that hadn't dried out from being left out or been mixed with other colors.  Just... fresh .  And on that freshest of mornings with my freshie fresh mind at work, I passed that group of protesters or supporters or what-have-you and I wondered to myself what MY cause would be.  It seemed like everyone at some point gravitated to a cause that they felt driven to center th...