family

This is a perfect depiction of how our family looks after a "family vacation".

It's not easy to become.

This song will follow me everywhere, even on days like these, where it's life and you have to become.

Father and Son by Cat Stevens. This song also appeared on Pirate Radio, which is a movie I recommend renting.

melodramatic moments.

I am a victim of melodrama.

However, I would like to tastefully commit my alibi as being: the time and place of this month, which does not function with any part of my well-being. Moreover, I would like to point out that according to a famous author, "We all need a little madness".
My madness today went infinitely around a circle of frustration that has been building for a solid year now. And according to my personality test, being that I am an "I", I am unrealistic- among the many other positive and negative traits. I guess with that knowledge I can see where some of my melodramatic tendencies root.

Today was paramount to the other breakdowns: I let go. I completely let myself go. All of the pent up tension of feeling boxed-in by responsibility, released. As a result, I found myself feeling salty and puffy, spewing words I longed to communicate. They came out to no one better than my mother.

"Mom, I just don't know what I want. I don't know how I feel about anyone, or anything at this point in my life?"

Then I muttered the epiphany: "What if I just want to leave everything I know and go figure it all out".

Blank stare.
.
.
.
.

Her response wasn't in words, it was in a knowing look that I received. She responded, "I think you know".

I did know.
I knew that I needed to take a step back from it all and evaluate each emotion and harness what I couldn't control. I guess most people have a tendency to come to these places and freak out. This is just happening at a point in my life where I can ask these questions and it makes sense too.
Nikos Kazantzakis states that “A person needs a little madness, or else they never dare cut the rope and be free”

My friend's blog is titled " All good things are wild and free"

Good things are wild and free.

So I end to tonight with one of my favorite people, Joanna Newsom.

"We sailed away on a winter's day with fate as malleable as clay,
but ships are fallible I say, and nautical like all things fade-
But I do recall a little wicker beetleshell with four fine legs and sails...
Oh my love it was a funny thing to be the one's to have seen"

Fathers and Cat Stevens.

One of my favorite memories of my dad happened when I was small. I don't exactly remember what age I was, I just remember the atmosphere: we were in our living room, which at the time was barren; it only contained a couch, a t.v., and a record player. I also remember we had horrible carpet- which is odd to me now, considering my dad owns a flooring store. But for some reason, I knew he picked what he wanted- and that always worked. He must have realized this mistake due to the fact that we no longer have that carpet.
I remember the earth-toned walls that paralleled the oak tower of technology, which held a moment of time that will last as long as my memory will. The look on his face changed when he walked over and placed the needle on the steel-black, vinyl surface. He was anticipating the music. An unfamiliar voice was then heard by my ears, but an old-time friend was heard by his. I remember the opening words "Oh baby, baby, it's a wild world" like they were playing now. There was no dancing; there was no movement at all. That afternoon dad introduced me to music- his music. We shared a moment of truth I was too young to understand, and he was too naiive to understand. That song was my first introduction to music; it was also my first introduction to my dad.

To this day, one of my favorite things to do with him is listen to music. However, today we did not listen to music. Instead we read and cooked a delicious meal. Coming and going years change our relationship. Now it seems to evolve into a growing friendship, one that allows me to enjoy his company more than previous times.

I admire my father.
He is a wonderful man who puts himself last.
Sometimes I don't recognize this fact, but inherently I know it to be true.

Happy Father's Day, dad-
sent with an eternal thankfulness for your 'hipness'
and your hippy music.

where words become honey.

This is one of the most refreshing books I have read in a long time.
I am eternally grateful for spending a day to read this.
I recommend that you do the same.

quality time

This week has been interesting to say the least. I accomplished the task of being unsuccessful in work, and very successful at eating half my weight in various desserts. But the upside to this week has been quality time.

An old friend came back for the night and shared her life with my sister and I. My loneliness has been a burden this summer; unfortunately books haven't stolen my heart. Instead, I seem to find a hole the size of a friend which cannot be replaced.

However, I have found comfort in small moments this weekend that fit into the person-sized hole. One of them was drinking cheap Yellow Tail and watching a movie I fell asleep to. The next moment was a short hike up the beautiful mountains of Port Angeles, which gave me long-awaited exercise.

Then the weekend poured into Monday: a job let down. But a redeemable moment compensated for that- my family and I gathered around the television and watched a favorite, "With Six You Get Eggroll". Surprisingly, I found that the movie contained a lot of feminine faux pas: Her husband frequently yells at her, telling her to shut up. My family and I have now quoted memorable lines from this (with shame on our lips).

Last, and probably my favorite moment: we watched the Bachelorette tonight. We were all sad to see the weatherman get cut. He was the source of our entertainment. So, if he ever reads this blog: Jonathan, we rooted for you!

Also, as a close to this night's diary, there is one more thing this week has brought: more understanding: more love. Distance is hard/annoying, but at the end of the day I am glad it forces some hard decisions and hard conversations. Yet, when the uneasiness cools down, it is a sweet, sweet calm.

For that I am thankful.
And I owe this to my friend, Amos Lee's "Black River"

untitled.

Tonight I listened to Bob Dylan's "Talkin New York"

And all I wanted to do was sit in on top of the car,smoke a cigar, and drink South African wine.

"So one mornin’ when the sun was warm
I rambled out of New York town
Pulled my cap down over my eyes
And headed out for the western skies"

There is something to be said about wanderers.
And the beauty of wandering.

systematic failures

It is hard to accept the day when your body decides to crash. Usually this crash seems to happen when a person is in the "winter" stage of their life, as one of my friends likes to call it.

First went the teeth, then the eyes, then my overall health...
I did not imagine that I would have to get a root canal and then I would have to fit a mold for my bottom retainer-my teeth seem to be crooked.
I also did not anticipate that I would need glasses- my 20/20 vision seems to be diminishing due to reading all the time.
And to top off everything- Ross has mono, which means I have mono.

As I write these words, I feel like my grandparents. Both of them had accidents this week. My grandmother broke her nose falling down the stairs, while my grandpa fell off of the roof and broke five ribs.

Maybe it is a family thing, but lately I feel all over the place and not just my health.
To avoid being sappy, my heart feels like it is in its own winter season as well.
I am not coping well with distance; I am not coping well with what little time I have to invest in people- especially the person my heart seems to be on a fine string with. At the end of the day it is people who make me delighted. At the end of most days, it seems to be one person I flip the calendar pages to reach.

So, to this one person:

I love you. No music can bring me closer, so I will freeze you in words this time around. At least this part of my system is not failing yet. I have to learn to be patient, but I do not have to learn total separation.

Perhaps this is the beauty of systematic failures- they never leave you complete. You have to change.

“Wisdom ceases to be wisdom when it becomes too proud to weep, too grave to laugh, and too selfish to seek other than itself.”
kahlil gibran