summer refrain
"no drama, you guys, i'm not going to start any drama."
by day two of tour, someone had already set their mind on leaving; by the fourth day, there were five people going back up to norcal.
in the in-between was a lot of singing, lying around on the beach, in transit (read: stuck in la traffic), young people, of course, food. there were some moments of relief and happiness, but as someone pointed out, "this trip hasn't given me a reason to be happy."
myself, i looked forward to flying out of southern california to the east coast, where adventures abounded.
but for a few moments there, i realized that i made true friends, ones i would genuinely miss. it was a little heartbreaking knowing that i wouldn't see them for a while, and if i did, that the separation of age, time, and space would take its toll. it's like what everyone wrote in their high school yearbooks: keep in touch, best friends forever. the follow-through never happens.
i felt that by the end of those four days we had all started to form our own little cliques, and that the edge that everyone was on was enough to send someone down the cliff. but i think for the most part we survived, solidifying some already-concrete relationships, burning a few bridges, and building new ones.
for what it's worth, my experience with air was good. i couldn't complain.
some things just have to end, i guess.
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the flight to new york was painful: sandwiched between a snoring old man and a trendy 40-year old woman who wouldn't stop reading out loud, i was banished to drink half a can of ginger ale and eat bad plane food (i know it's a little redundant, but the opposite would have been an oxymoron). the movie was
rumor has it, and rumor had it that it was bad, so i dodn't watch it. i solved three crosswords. i tried to nap. my back ached.
but as soon as i got out of the airport and headed to the city, i flashed back a few years, memories spinning in my head over the greatest summers of my life.
and i felt the warm, humid summer air envelop me as i got out of the cab, reminding me that yes, it was summer in new york, and that i was back.
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i gallivanted all over town, retracing steps untaken for years, trouncing on subway lines and sitting among magnificent pieces of art and architecture. i took myself on a walking journey, from ground zero to the met, on my first day of excursion, meeting up with new york friends and reliving the hotspots of high school almost too literally -- it was near 80 degrees every day i was there. nights at brooklyn were standard, and were a welcome change of pace from the frenetics of manhattan.
then the next day ben showed up and we tripped over to greenwich village, lunching and winding up at moma. i explored park slope for a bit, eating late at blue ribbon, and sweating the night away -- even at night, brooklyn was around 75 degrees.
the museum of natural history was a great break from art and architecture, and relieving, to a point -- it was a raucous place, different from the stifling silence of the met and the grand scale of moma; there was applause and laughter around corners, and the energy was different. i revisited the dioramas, took in one of the most engrossing and intriguing installations about evolution i had come upon, and marveled at scale and size.
soon afterwards my aunts and i met up in the east village, where we had a rendezvous with little italy and the summer street festival and soho. it didn't feel at all like memorial day. in fact it didn't feel like any particular day while i was there -- like it had all been one stream of consciousness from friday to tuesday, drifting in and out of zoning in.
and sure, the talk was all talk. i don't know if i nailed anything nor if i guaranteed myself a spot in the next class, but only time will tell.
i spent my last day in the lower east side, looking at dogs, eating at katz's, and drinking beer. it felt like home.
the most heart-wrenching part was getting into that car and telling the driver that i had to be in san francisco, knowing that what lay ahead was work and more work, moving, and stasis.
i wanted to stay so badly. i wanted to find myself again. i wanted to wander through the streets and feel like a part of something bigger than i was.
i'll be back soon.
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returning to the cool pacific breeze was a reminder that this, for the moment, was home. this was it, the bastion of liberalism and vegans, home of organic food and academia. and friends -- home to many friends who cherished each other's time and being, appreciative of support and hearing your voice.
the bay area holds a special place in my heart, because this was where i realized i had one.
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as cliché as it sounds, you are the change you want to be.
be.
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may friends you love know.
serendipitous
having unplanned days can be good sometimes.
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mix one part bacardi 151 with one and a half parts of strawberry syrup and three parts of sparkling water.
it makes for a terrific afternoon soda, especially when you're lying on the median on rose and shattuck, enjoying turkey sandwiches and having good conversation.
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i was tailed on my way home last night -- some shady guy basically followed me home after eyeing my bag for a few blocks and started gunning for me when he saw me pull out my keys. i ran inside. he yelled.
lesson #632516: always walk home using the safe route -- and be sure to have someone to call so that they know you're all right. (thanks nathan!)
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yeah brant parties!
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did everyone see that grey's anatomy finale? oh man.
so good.
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i recently talked to one of my close east coast friends, and found out that they were all going to take a crazy three-month long (!) trip going "around south america" and gallivanting while it's winter there.
i wanna go!
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strawberries are in season. delicious.
"we're a blasphemous pot of dying culture"
the best moments come from those of whom you least expect.
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i've been in two empty houses this week, both of which now hold fantastic memories. in the first we ended up eating candy in the dark, talking about growing up in an empty kitchen, and sitting on the hardwood flooring of an empty room, all leading up to nine hours of hanging out. being in the presence of people charges you differently than being alone charges you: the energies are convergent at some point, but at the end of it all they're so fundamentally different but still manage to make you smile at the end of the day.
the second time was in the piedmont, adoring the bottom unit of this duplex. after a trip to ikea we hung out and drank a celebratory glass of wine, followed by even more shenanigans and chicanery when we brought more people along and realized that we were getting just a bit too old for the collegiate experience. as one of them said as we were walking down the street, "you guys, i want to be old. no more of this school business." the rest of us smiled and giggled out of politeness.
how i wish he knew how much we wanted to take back these four years and relive them over and over again.
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the rest of the class of 2006 is finally graduating, which in itself is pretty unnerving considering everyone is a bit too sentimental or on edge. and neither of those feelings are that spectacular when coupled with large gatherings of friends and people you were in class with.
though it is hard to be on the other side of things... everyone else has their moments of fun when they're planning get-togethers and picture parties and i'm stuck at work. it ain't fair, but when life gives you lemons, you throw them right back.
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things are getting better, i have a feeling. they have to.
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when it hits you that it's mere weeks until something is actually over, you start yearning. it's the classic adam-and-eve syndrome. for a while now i've wanted out so much from a lot of things: singing, band, berkeley. but now that i realize my friends are all moving on, that we're all growing up, and i can't be a part of the campus hubbub, i've wanted to do things so much more. i want to sing a lot more, i want to be with my first friends here, and i want to stay in berkeley for a little bit longer.
what a mindfuck.
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i really did have this horrible lucid dream where i was in a plaza with a bunch of my friends, all of us laughing and talking, when all of a sudden a car drives by and starts yelling at us. we ignore it, but the insults kept coming, so we decided to get up and leave. we stroll down the sidewalk, continuing in our ignorant revelry, and all of a sudden the same car drives by and starts shooting at us.
a bunch of us duck for cover, but i hear two shots and two thuds, falling on the ground, and i scamper to grab my glasses. one of my closest friends had been shot in the stomach, and he was dying. the other victim, my best friend from high school, was already dead.
i shot up from my bed and started crying. i felt cold and alone.
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i miss the feeling of holding someone in your arms and doing nothing with them.
fuck that shit.
it's the end of an era.
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spring show was awesome. extra special thanks to brighitte and gabe for being our ushers on friday. and to the other departing members of air, i will miss you like no other.
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the night was described aptly in one sentence: "the people who deserve it dont get it, and the people who don't get it are in their knees in it dying to know what it is they're in."
fuck.
that.
shit.
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bad idea, i know, but:
with all the shit that people have been taliking about me recently, i feel like shooting them one by one in the face.
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i had a horrible dream where my best friends got shot and i was stuck in purgatory.
it ended with me being near a fountain and feeling the water between my toes.
i wanted to stop time and tell people how much they meant to me, but obviously that wasn't going to work.
i would advise getting away from public plazas or altogether buying the audio feed.
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i can't anymore.
biteth like a serpent
life lesson #894832: stressful things like to happen all at once.
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the last concert for this crop of air is this friday and saturday, 8pm at 145 dwinelle. if you are anyone in my life or would like to begin to be, you'll be there. let me know if you want tickets.
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k.d. lang was at work today. boz scaggs was at work last night. in a few weeks, al gore is coming. glory of glories.
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i was reading a book called "hidden kitchens" written by the kitchen sisters on npr. it's a fantastic read, very easy. and good to realize that you really are what you eat.
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you know that feeling when you think you're the most down-and-out person on earth, then someone tells you something worse and even more grotesquely horrible that you can't help but bring a smile to your face?
it's good to know that somewhere out there someone's having a tougher time. it somehow makes things easier.
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when did all these socialites figure out what myspace is?? i think it's kinda gross when you're a thirtysomething browsing myspace. you should have real friends by that time.
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chili oil is the funnest thing to eat with everything. it hurts so good.
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kelly clarkson and her song "walk away" (not to be confused with "breakaway"), man. that song is fragging catchy.
i was humming it at work. and when you hum kelly clarkson songs, it gets into everyone's heads too, and everyone starts humming it. then it's a vicious cycle for days on end.
how does she do it??
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worse comes to worse, i'll be living in fremont beginning june 1.
aiye.
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fruit syrup and vanilla ice cream during a nice sunny spring day. it's the next best thing to your mother tucking you into bed, grandma's mashed potatoes, and soup after playing outside on a rainy day.
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anyone want to see the calder exhibit at sfmoma that's running til this month?
