Coffee with breakfast

I'm sitting in Claudia's living room, listening to Dead Can Dance and drinking coffee from Bagel Brother's in Oly. She is in the kitchen, making smoothies and eggs. Her kitty, Elliot, is regarding me from her post on the tweed-patterned seat in the living room. Last night, Claudia and I missed the last bus downtown. We were at a friend's, enjoying a potluck and movie, and lost track of time reading Sherman Alexie. I often lose track of time reading Sherman Alexie.

So, we woke up this morning at Jack and Toru's, missed another bus, and made our way back to her apartment to eat breakfast and prepare for the day.

Claudia, whom I met a year ago in the Russia program, is now again in my program, Eye of the Story. We've become close since the field trip during week three to the Long Beach Peninsula. We have quite a bit in common, and seem to be working with the same membrane. It's a good friendship, and I see it lasting for a long time.

Jack and Toru are two kids from the Russia program as well, and the potluckers consisted of the four of us and another friend from the program, Peter. It was a group of the nerdiest Russia programmers, and it was fantastic. I miss my old program. The new one is riddled with pretentious idiots. I hate them. I know it's strong, but I do. I can't stand being around them for so long. So it was nice to be in a group with such a great atmosphere.

Anyway, that was my night.

Art for Art's sake!

Disclaimer: I am not a hipster.

The trees around town have been burnt by the autumn weather. They are golden, reddish, brown, and white. Yes, even white, like the white poplar near the corner market on Fourth. The undersides of its leaves are velvet (where the distinct coloration lies), and the tops are green. These leaves do not change color, as far as I can tell. They simply fall when they are ready. (Apparently, according to wikipedia, these poplars are native to Northern, wetter climates. They are often seen in swamps, wetlands, etc., and are famous in Russia. Many people consider them weeds, for they need a lot of resources and nutrients to grow. When not surrounded by the rich environments of the wetlands, their roots will become like refuges, like pioneers, searching out the wealth of others. In essence, when not in their proper environment, they are destructive - but, oh! so beautiful.)

But the other deciduous trees carpet the sidewalks and lawns of East Olympia in fall tones. Some leaves age from the center out, some from the border in. Some are fully golden, reddish, or brown; some are marbleized mixtures of each. Some are still pure and varying greens.

In all of this, it is beautiful.

I am now sitting inside with Amanda, my roommate, at Leah's, our dear friend's, reading Virginia Woolf. She is taking a twenty-four hour vacation from the kids to do homework, rest. I have noticed lately that I put commas in strange places. It's a hard habit to kick, but I think I can do it.

So, as I sit, breaking from Woolf, I will update you all: Franny is well, but going to the vet on Thursday to have her teeth checked; class is excellent, but stressful (not a good thing, as many may argue...); I am well, my living situation is good; Olympia is lively despite the natural hibernation of life (and the sun) in the North in winter; I am feeling more and more lately my paradoxical lazy ambition (or ambitious laziness? or simply laziness on one side, ambition on the other); and then there's the comma thing.

Outside again, the light is pale, sinister, calming outside. It is, like all things, complex and inexplicable - yet infinitely describable. I won't, however, bore you with infinite descriptions of the sunlight. You, I'm sure, have seen, maybe are seeing it. I don't mean to exclude here my congenital blind friends (of which I have none). There are other ways to experience the sunlight than through sight. It is felt, it is sensed. The sunlight, really, is not sunlight in itself. When we talk about it, we often include (subconsciously, unconsciously) the smells, the temperature, the winds, the other sights. The air, how it feels in our mouths and throats and lungs. It all comes together to create the sunlight.

In any case, I am only writing for the sake of writing. I have no power in my to entertain right now (others, that is, for I am certainly entertaining myself). I hope all is well in your lives!

peace&love

Self Gratification and Discovery

Blogs really are a form of self gratification. Becuase of that, I hardly ever post. Sorry, faithful reader(s)(if any exist).

Anyway, in an effort to connect better with my program (Eye of the Story: ethnography and creative writing), I'm going to attempt to blog more frequently. I should probably set a limit. Three a week? Think that's doable? We'll see.

So let's get to the life update: I am now living with a family. Mother and father, both twenty six; three year old daughter; six month old son; two cats; and Franny. Franny is my cat of twelve years, and it's excellent having her around. I am studying, as previously mentioned, ethnography and creative writing.

Right now, I am with the preschooler, K, and my good friend, Leah, watching a School House Rock episode about checks and banks.

"What's this about?" K asks.

"This is about checking accounts." Leah replies.

Leah quilts, K watches, I blog, and all of us learn about adjectives. "Boys are dumb, or else they're brainy," we learn. The narrators leave no room for mediocrity. But soon, K is tired and heads to Leah's room for a nap. How long she will be there, I do not know, but I am glad for the break from School House Rock. As great as it is, one can only take so many songs about prepositions, deficits, and discovery.

A song starts when she has left describing the pilgrims and the history of colonial America. The plight of the Indians during this time is referenced only by a caricature which appears at the landing at Plymouth Rock. But before the song ends, Leah turns off the DVD player.

This is a familiar afternoon. Whether it's watching the kids (I do part-time nannying), hanging out with Leah in her craft room, or both, I have found constancy in my life. I have people, I have place. And every day, I learn something new. Like yesterday, for example, I felt the sting of my own prejudices. And today, I realized that writing makes me feel alive. Certainly, I've learned this before, but I forget. Sometimes, we can learn the same thing over and over, and still never know it. I hope that I know this now. I hope things will change.

And I hope that people, place, and vitality exist in all of your lives as well. Until next time...

peace&love

Summer

It's been a crazy quarter, but I'm going to make a real effort to update this now. 

Quick summary: I'm now living in a lovely apartment with Clint on the Eastside in Olympia. I'm staying over the summer to take classes. I just finsihed a grueling quarter in which I completed a nine-week independent research project on Russian Orthodoxy in Alaska. I'm continuing Russian language over the summer and into next year. For next fall, I got accepted into an anthropology, ethnography, and creative writing program that looks excellent. I love Olympia, I love the people here (mostly), and I love my few but wonderful friends. I do miss my people from home, but I'll see them soon. My cat is hopefully moving in with me this summer. Lots of exciting stuff.

So how about this weather?

Love and Marriage

So, as I may have mentioned, my two best friends here in Oly are Russell and Aidyn. The two of them hooked up a few months ago, and I served as a confidant to both the whole way through. Today, on the most beautiful day in a while, they announced they're getting married.

Now, I know some will judge, but they're in their twenties, they're madly in love, and they really do want to spend the rest of their lives together. Really. When you look at them together, you see something incomprehensible. Some fantastic force that you can almost feel yourself. It reminds me of my parents. They way the look at each other. The way they smile. And only just today, after making the decision to stay together, the two have transformed completely. They glow with such happiness and love. I know this is really cheesy, but I see something in Russell's and Aidyn's faces unprecedented and powerful.

I am so happy. I can't imagine anything else that could make me feel this way right now. It's truly wonderful.

(tonight, while celebrating)

Recovery

If there's one thing hiking has taught me, it's that if you consider the full length, the task becomes daunting and unappealing. But once you get started, and take it step by step, yard by yard, mile by mile, you'll make it to the top feeling accomplished and at peace. You've conquered something in yourself. Broken down boundaries that existed before. You feel like a new person. And that's what I'm doing in my recovery process right now.

I am going through so many psychological changes these days. I realized that the reason for so much of my recent unhappiness is that these changes created a disconnect from my good friends here. After going through so much as a freshman, I have to reform all these bonds in new ways and grow the relationships into something new so they don't stagnate. I'm lucky I have Aidyn, though. She is my only constant friend who I didn't know before I came to Evergreen. She's been around for me whenever I needed her, and I know that'll last. 

But... I must crack down on homework now and start to pull my life back together a little, one step at a time.

(Aidyn and me at our friend's 24th white trash party. She's wearing a wig.)

Running

So, as I mentioned yesterday, my professor convinced me to start running, and so today, I went on my first run. Really, I crack-hiked for 45 minutes, ran for about 15, and then walked again for another 10. And through the Evergreen woods, too, which are simply stunning. It was the best 70 minutes of my week.

Now, I'm chillin in  my room to Reidar and letting this body high slowly fade. Everyone should go running through the forest every once in a while.

(Some of our rainforest; found on: http://flickr.com/photos/koencidence/2506050582/)

Healing

I talked to my professor today about all my crazy emotional problems. I'd been falling behind lately - apathy started to kick in, and I was sleeping all the time and not eating. I wasn't particularly sad, but mostly because I didn't understand it. After talking to Rob, I felt the real sadness kicking in. He helped me work through my issues to the point that I even know what I need to do now. He gave me perspective and advice and true compassion. I think that conversation honestly changed my life in a weird way and it gave me the kick I needed to get my life back together. This guy (who is quickly becoming one of my role models here on campus) showed me something I never expected from him. Sometimes, that's all one needs to really gain some greater perspective. And I love him for it.

For all you struggling freshmen out there, remember you can talk to your professors. They DO care about you. As long as you're at Evergreen, anyway.

To family, I'm fine. Don't worry about me. Just a little normal freshman drama. :D

Sherman

Unkissed

A Fibonacci Sequence Poem

by Sherman Alexie

1.

Who
Knew
The man
Would jackknife,
Leave his lovely wife,
And abandon his preschool kids?
He told me once, "I hate my life." So who knew? I did.

(I am vaguely Catholic, so I am prone to believe that any confession, however casual, is a Holy Confession. Isn't every secret a sacred possession? Shouldn't I honor any intimacy with my silence? Or am I just defending my friend? But, damn, what kind of man leaves his family without kissing them good-bye? And what's more, he left them not for another woman or man, but for a studio apartment with a big-screen TV. Should I feel guilty for remaining friends with this bastard? Do I become a liar whenever I conceal the lies of another man, no matter how much I love him like a brother?)

2.

"Meet
Me
At noon,"
X said. She
Waited for fifty-
Six minutes then sent X this text:
"I love your forgetful ass, but we'll never have sex."

(There was a time, twenty-one years ago, when X romantically loved her—when he drunkenly waded through a shallow pond in his haste to get to her. He could have walked around the water, but that would have involved a deviation from a direct line. He pursued her like this despite the fact that she was—and is—a lesbian. Romance has always been an impossibility. And yet, these days, whenever she flirts, he remembers exactly what it felt like to want her so much—to dream of kissing her beneath a streetlight while unkissed strangers wander past them.)

3.

He's
Free
But served
Thirteen years
For rape and car theft
Before a new DNA test
Exonerated him. He says, "Freedom hurts my chest."

(The prosecuting attorney still believes the right man was convicted. "I have no doubts, none at all," the attorney said to a documentary crew. "And I will go to my grave knowing that a guilty man has been set free." The case depended on eyewitness testimony. The rape victim, an eight-year-old girl, first told police that she was attacked by a man who looked like her neighbor. After hours of questioning and coaching, she changed her statement and swore that it was "actually" her neighbor who raped her. Another witness, a different neighbor, swore that he saw the accused man steal a car. The witness was allowed to make this claim despite the fact that he was extremely nearsighted, it was nighttime, and the suspect was sixty feet away. The nearsighted man swore that he recognized his neighbor's "eccentric gait." The jury took only three hours to deliver a guilty verdict, and the judge sentenced the accused to seventy years. But all of them were wrong. They convicted an innocent man. Does that make them liars? Must one purposefully lie in order to be called a liar? Or can a mistake—an accidental misidentification—also be a form of lying? And whom do we become when we are confronted with the truth—with a direct refutation of our closely held beliefs—but still refuse to admit to our wrongs? During a press conference the day after his release from prison, the innocent man swore that he held no grudge. He said he just wanted to get down and kiss the ground, though the ground remained unkissed. He said he forgave everybody and that he wished all of them his best. But he kept repeating—said it three or four times—that freedom was hurting—was killing—his chest.)

4.

I
Sighed
When she
Passed by my
Desk. I wanted her;
She wanted me. We never kissed.
Twenty years later, I still dream about what I missed.

(She loves her husband and sons; I love my wife and daughters. Neither of us wants to change our lives. I don't want to kiss her now, except, I suppose, in my fantasies. But I am still curious about all the reasons why we never acted on our passions. Why didn't we ever take that first step toward removing our clothes? Were we afraid? Were we in denial? Perhaps we just didn't want it enough. Or is there a larger question? Do all of us become liars when we don't kiss those people who make us tremble and who tremble for us?)

5.

"Whites
Lie!"
My dad
Drunkenly
Shouted to the sky
Then madly climbed into his ride
And promised us that he'd only drink a few. He lied.

(My father only talked about broken treaties when he was drinking. He died six years ago of alcohol-related kidney failure. But I was not at his bedside. I'd never promised him that I would help him die, so, technically speaking, I didn't lie, but whenever I talk to my mother about my father's death, I have to avert my eyes. I also had to avert my eyes when I first saw my father—no, my father's body—lying in the coffin. My sisters—twins—leaned over to kiss my father, but I could only imagine the coldness, the taste of absence, so I did not kiss him. I only held his hand, and only for a moment, before I fled back to my chair in the front row, where I grieved alone and yet so publicly.) 

(published on http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/unkissed/Content?oid=1118160)

Oscars!

My man, Sean Penn, won his Oscar tonight and I am so proud. Watch his acceptance speech:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1dnM8v9aaR0

And the screenwriter adds his two cents even more beautifully...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LC_9CIh3u-w

And once you're done with that (and thoroughly inspired), watch this:

http://www.couragecampaign.org/page/s/divorce

And spread the word, folks! Movements grow exponentially.

peace&love

Seattle

In an effort to find some good photos of Seattle to put up in my room, I came across the following blog:

http://www.vintageseattle.org/

It's basically a photographic archive of Seattle's early years. Like this: 

That was taken an estimated one hundred years ago. There's a lot more too. Check it out.

6:15 AM

As I am writing this, it is 6:15 AM and I am just going to bed. I checked my facebook as part of my bedtime ritual (really, I check at least forty times a day) and noticed that my friend, Kim, had just gotten up for work about an hour ago. Strange how college can do that to you...

Anyway, I've got class in less than three hours, so there's no time for a lengthy update. Good night, moon (or rising sun)!

Laundry

So, I did laundry at school for the first time today. It's not that I haven't done it all year - I usually just do it when I visit home. But I was definitely due for clean clothes. Anyway, I learned a lot about how public  laundry rooms work. It's much more aggressive than one might expect. Or at least than I expected. I lost my washer and dryer a couple times due to more active customers. But at least it's only 75 cents a cycle, compared to 2 dollars at some of my friends' universities. Evergreen likes to keep living here easy and cheap. That's one of the reasons why we have 20% budget cut for next year. But enough about money. 

I have suddenly become ten times cleaner than I was last year. It's interesting how every few months, a sudden growth in cleanliness occurs since leaving home. At first, I was pretty clean. Then I was even cleaner. Now, I'm far more organized than I ever thought I could be. Sure, there are people out there much more meticulous than I am, but still. The fact remains that I am suddenly a generally well organized human being. I like this change. My step mom will undoubtedly be  irritated - though not surprised - in that way that people are when there suspicions are confirmed when she reads this. If she reads this. But it is a strange fact of life that as we get older, we change. Very strange indeed.

Anyway, it was mainly this impulse to stay clean that led to my vow today to always do laundry once a week or every other week, depending on how quickly it builds up. That way, I'll only have to do one load at a time. But, really, laundry isn't interesting enough to keep going on about...

Hope you all are keeping clean.

Peace&love

Back in Edmonds...

I'm back in Edmonds for less than twenty four hours and I've already had the wildest time. First off, I was reunited with a great deal of my sister's friends since she had her birthday party tonight. It was cool to see them. I also met my beloved neighbor's new puppy. She is so adorable! Kim also told me I need to learn how to blog more than just the drama. She's right, of course. I'm just lazy. Finally, I think I met the most despicable human being while trying to hang out with my best friend whom I hadn't seen in two years. That was a bummer. But overall, it's been a crazy night in the suburbs!

And now I must read Crime and Punishment!

Notes from Underground

So, twice a week, my program participates in split seminars where the students form two groups with a professor each and discuss the reading for that week. Today, we seminared on Notes from Underground by Dostoevsky. It was truly the day in my education that I  can remember. And it taught me a valuable lesson.

First, beyond the fact that it is the greatest work on philosophy I have read, I almost didn't even read it before seminar. In fact, I was so busy and tired this week (i.e. lazy) that I put it off until this morning between class. The way my schedule works is this: 9-11am I have lecture; 12-2pm language class; 2-4pm seminar. At 11, I walked to the cafe next door and sat down with my book. I was expecting to read for an hour, then head back to class. However, once I started, I couldn't put it down. I read the whole thing from 11 to 1:30 and then sat in the cafe, staring at my coffee for a half hour.  

Seminar, then, was even more captivating. After having read one of the best books written, we got to talk about it. For two hours. With a group of amazingly smart and engaged individuals. It's like everything I ever wanted from my education. We sat around, contemplating some of life's greatest questions for credit. I decided then that I'm never putting off my reading again. What if I had missed this seminar?!

Just to interject here, the book is all about the complexity of human nature and identity, the cycle of redemption and sin, the battle between emotion and rationalism, the balance between freedom and constraints, and the fight for knowledge and understanding. It's essentially the journal of a man whose contradictions and paradoxes are many and difficult. And acknowledged. He's a self-loathing egoist, an intellectual idiot, an extremely emotive logician, and many others. He's a man forced into inaction by all the contradiction, all the suffering, he endures every day. He's a man who exacts revenge knowing that it's unjust to do so. He's a man who makes decisions based on spite: in spite of himself, in spite of others. He's a man who can't respect himself but can't stand others who don't respect him. He envies those around him, yet wants to be as far from who they are as possible. He hurts others because they love him. He hurts others because they hate him. He hurts others because he hates himself. He hurts others because he hates the decisions he's made. All his actions are based in anger and frustration. The only people who've ever paid attention to him are destroyed by him. He revels in the suffering inflicted on him by the uncaring world, and yet he resents its indifference to him. He is incredibly honest, and yet can't face the reality of his own emotions. He needs to inflict the pain on others that he feels in order to see it. His guilt and self-hatred are equal to his sense of moral superiority and righteousness.

It's fantastically complex and heartbreaking. And so engaging. I feel like my entire life has suddenly changed. I'm so focused on something beyond my own perception and reality right now. Everyone and everything is new. My very room, the music I'm listening to as I write this, my roommate who I had lunch with earlier. A new perspective. It's bizarre. And yet I feel exactly the same. It's like the strange paradox this nameless narrator deals with. I feel like my knowledge and understanding have expanded so exponentially this year - especially on days like this - and I feel much more objective and informed about life, and yet I feel my human nature will eventually kill this stimulating mind frame and throw me back into the troubles of being an eighteen-year-old in college. I'm still trying to figure this all out, and I probably always will be. Life's a mystery.

Everyone should read this novel. It's fucking awesome

Peace&love

Separatism

Nearly halfway through my second quarter, I am beginning to settle in to the college routine. I've found a fine balance between work and play, which is excellent. I'm doing well in school and I love it, and my friends and I are comfortable in our relationships. But despite all the good, there is still quite a bit of controversy to deal with.

As you may or may not expect, Evergreen (and Olympia) is filled with queer separatists. It's an environment relatively new to me, as the attitude back home was much more relaxed. The trouble is that some of these folks have become good friends of mine over the last few months, and some of my good friends have become favorably disposed towards the mindset - and it's causing a lot of drama.

Unfortunately, it all centers around sexuality. A few of my friends and I have decided to move out as soon as is feasible because we've suddenly found ourselves in this hostile separatist environment. Sure, I understand the motivations and emotions behind the hatred towards the straight-identified community, but it demonizes not just the target "demographic," but also anyLGBTQ person who disagrees. I've felt rifts growing between some of my closest friends because of this.

Just to avoid being vague, I am not a separatist. I don't think words like "breeder" or obsessive labeling are okay. I mean, what the hell, if my parents (or one of them) hadn't been breeders, I wouldn't be here. And my "straight-identified" parents are fucking wonderful. My "straight-identified" friends are wonderful. And they didn't determine their sexuality any more than the LGBT folk did, and they didn't create the cultural stigma we all have to deal with. And what's worse than hating on my  straight peeps is the accosting of my not-entirely-gay ones. 

A couple of the loveliest women I've ever met in my life currently feel uncomfortable in their living situation because they're both in relationships with men. One woman even identifies as a lesbian. She's got it the worst because she's not a real queer, right? But straight women have been dating gay women forever, so who's to say we can reduce sexuality to something that can be defined as simply as that? We've got some pretty complicated DNA, so how can anything about us truly be that simple?

I have to say, however, that some of the people I'm specifically targeting in here are really great, and I mean that. They're intelligent, thoughtful, caring, and brave. But they're angry. So I understand, but I wish it could be different. I don't want to lose close friends because I can't feel comfortable in my own ambiguous sexuality. But I suppose that's the nature of the beast.

On that note, I hope y'all are  embracing the complexity within you and enjoying your lives!

Peace&love

A Theist

So, my strange, strange neighbors in the apartment to the right and above ours invited Simon, who's staying with me for the weekend, my dear friend Curran, and myself to smoke hookah with them. I like their roommates (Fox and Elissa), but I always found the spiritually married couple who live there too very odd. But we decided to go, and we did have a really good time, but we certainly had some weird conversations.

Our topics ranged from sexuality (in which they covertly insulted one of my close lesbian friends) to spirituality (in which they openly insulted myself and my sensibilities). At one point, as we were discussing what religion means to the individual, Kevin said,

"Take apart atheist, and you get a-theist. A theist. That implies that there's just a journey to find God. That's what atheists are, and that's what I am." Elizabeth agreed. Needless to say, when I tried to explain that a- was a negative beginning, meaning no god, they rebutted with the same fucking argument they started with. Which makes no sense.

In essence, both of them called themselves atheists but were really theists. I was mad for about ten minutes, and then I just realized that the stupidity behind their logic was so irreversible (as they had done a great deal of thinking on the subject) that there was really no point in fighting it.

But at least they aren't fundamentalists.

Home again, home again...

I'm finally back in Olympia. Visiting Edmonds was great, don't get me wrong - but I'd forgotten how much I love it here. I spent the last day organizing my books (I just received ten for next quarter in the mail and I brought several more down with me from break), CDs, movies, papers, clothes, shoes, scarves, and many other things, and now I am finally settled in my apartment. I also spent a good amount of time revamping my Russian so I can have a decent start on Tuesday when classes pick up again.

The best part of being back, though, is that I have my Greener family again. Almost. A majority of them are still gone, but the few who I've gotten to see have greatly increased my happiness. I'm really glad to be home. 

Next quarter is Russian  literature studies, so I feel that the next few months will be much more exciting than the last few - though I did love the history. We'll be reading a different book a week, from Dostoevskii's Notes from the Underground to Turgenev's Fathers and Sons, and all the way back to Pushkin and The Queen of Spades. 

On the other hand, I lost the ten hours a week I had at the Child Care Center due to the change, so I'm once again financially unstable. I do have all my tuition and housing paid for, but I'm hoping to find another job to cover travel expenses and any other non-school related purchases. 

So this feels like a real new beginning. I'm essentially jobless, but I've got the coolest class coming up. Hopefully I'll have more time for weight-training with Clint.

Hope all is well with everyone. Happy late new year!

Peace

A new year

So, it is the first day in the Gregorian calendar 2009, as you may know, but tonight is no different than any other night except the fireworks.  We have entered a new year. I feel like I should have resolutions simply for tonight, but everything I have decided to do for the upcoming months was decided weeks ago. I will do even better in school, I will spend more time discovering myself (cheesy, I know), and I will dedicate myself to something greater than my own personal gains. I am glad for January because it means a quarter of Russian literature studies, but really, I feel no different. But I hope that everyone is enjoying the night and finding in themselves a drive to do better that will last them beyond a few weeks. Don't let yourself down; don't forget the promises you make to yourself; take yourself seriously.

And with that, I say good night and good luck.