(no subject)
I'm perched on Shannon's kitschy butterfly/flower couch with a giant mug of water and looking out the window, onto the tiny patch of world I can see from here. There are few clouds, yet the ground is shaded and cool, somehow. It rained cats, dogs, and anti-Zionist Jews last night, but you'd never know it- there are no puddles reflecting their interpretation of the sky, and the air outside is still muggy as hell. Rain changes nothing in the South.
Goddess above, what a couple of weeks.
It's been a little more than a week since I returned from my vacation in the Land of Cold and Snow (and it did indeed snow during my stay). This was probably the best time I've had in Duluth... ever. It was like being sixteen during summer vacation- everyone hanging out with everyone all the time. The overwhelming energetic theme with all of the people in Duluth who are most important to me is maturity. Everyone I've known there for two years has grown up so much. Danika hasn't changed much, as she was already pretty mature. Orley and Maxey, however, are a different matter. Orley has managed, in the last few months, to dissolve an unhealthy romantic relationship with an unhappy young man, and has since moved on to an older, more secure, more giving guy who ostensibly treats her as the royalty she is, and she's finally back to making actual money with her music. She has gigs twice a week at an Icelandic cafe/bar downtown.
Maxey, too, has come into her own. I think the catalyst for her was being able to move out of her mother's house. It's not that she doesn't get along with her mother, but rather that moving into her dorm was, for Maxey, that mythic, magical first breath of freedom and proverbial fresh air, and she has begun to own her responsibilities more fully than she ever has before. Aside from that unfortunate mishap with the housekeeping job on Craigslist- which could have happened to anyone, and because of which Maxey now owes Wells Fargo around a thousand dollars- she's doing quite admirably.
By some slip of synchronicity, the transient, homeless-sort-of-by-choice Rachel traipsed into town on the same day as I, having returned to Duluth from a few weeks of sleeping on the streets and rooftop futons of Milwaukee. The most I can say about seeing Rachel so much is that it truly was very nice to see her. Rachel's always been full of... interesting ideas in the realm of spirituality, and she's just recently discovered the Indigo and Crystal Children, and is quickly becoming obsessed.
Jason and I broke up while I was there- as much as we could break up, I suppose. Everytime someone hears this particular bit of news, they immediately tell me they're sorry and ask if I'm okay, to which I invariably reply, "Yes, I'm fine. I was out of his league, anyway." And it's true. We remain friends.
It was more than just nice to be able to see Jenny. Jenny Pinther is one of those rare individuals to whom I can relate on a mostly intellectual level. Sometimes I feel like we're two scientist conducting separate experiments who convene from time to time for each to give the other feedback about their respective experiments- namely, our lives. Equally as important is the fact that Jenny is not merely an intelligent being. She is also a feeling, caring, creative soul, and it always feels good to be around her, and I'm glad I got that opportunity.
Of course, I also spent a lot of time with my family. I had many a lovely conversation with my wonderful mother, my racist grandmother, and my drugged-up younger sibling. With Mum the talk was mostly of my life in Orlando, of how things are going, if I'm eating well, if I have enough money, if I'm seeing anyone. Grandma, ever the consummate cerebral Aquarius, speaks of things that go on in her life and what she learns from them. I had dinner with Mum quite a few times, and tasted tofu for the first time in my life. I enjoyed it immensely. we made plans for shipping my keyboard, and for the purchase of my new white netbook, which should be here in a few weeks and which I will name Emma Grace Frost. Also, on one of our outings, we went to get my eyes fixed. I now have contact lenses which give me twenty/fifteen vision and which I apparently have quite a bit of trouble removing. Practice makes sufficient.
Half of the wonder of this trip, though, was coming home. I have always been a soul with two homes, and it seems that every time I leave one to visit the other, it becomes that much easier for everyone involved. When I was moving from Duluth to Orlando, Maxey, Danika, and Orley stayed at my house the night before I was to leave. We had a bit of a late night, and so in the morning, I woke up to drive to the hotel with my mother, because I was taking a shuttle from Duluth to Minneapolis to catch a plane from the airport there, and the shuttle came into the parking lot of the Radisson at around ten o'clock. I let the girls sleep in, saying my goodbyes and i-love-yous to their sleepy faces and half-lucid farewells. Mum and I went to the hotel, where Maxey, Danika, and Orley found us around ten minutes later, Orley brandishing a guitar and all of them wearing looks of indignation. "How dare you try to leave without a proper good-bye?" Their faces demanded imperiously. After a round of nervous hugging, we proceeded to the serious business- the making of music. We sang for an hour, and ended with "Samson," Regina's song, as the shuttle pulled into the parking lot. We got just past Regina cutting his hair herself one night, and a single tear rolled down Orley's cheek. We would all have been fine had Maxey not seen Orley crying. Maxey burst into loud, Leo tears, and Danika's face crumpled. There was more hugging, and then I got into a van that was going to drive me toward my new life.
That doesn't happen anymore. We're all too aware now of the fact that I will be back, eventually.
That does not mean, however, that my heart does not occasionally ache for my other home.
Goddess above, what a couple of weeks.
It's been a little more than a week since I returned from my vacation in the Land of Cold and Snow (and it did indeed snow during my stay). This was probably the best time I've had in Duluth... ever. It was like being sixteen during summer vacation- everyone hanging out with everyone all the time. The overwhelming energetic theme with all of the people in Duluth who are most important to me is maturity. Everyone I've known there for two years has grown up so much. Danika hasn't changed much, as she was already pretty mature. Orley and Maxey, however, are a different matter. Orley has managed, in the last few months, to dissolve an unhealthy romantic relationship with an unhappy young man, and has since moved on to an older, more secure, more giving guy who ostensibly treats her as the royalty she is, and she's finally back to making actual money with her music. She has gigs twice a week at an Icelandic cafe/bar downtown.
Maxey, too, has come into her own. I think the catalyst for her was being able to move out of her mother's house. It's not that she doesn't get along with her mother, but rather that moving into her dorm was, for Maxey, that mythic, magical first breath of freedom and proverbial fresh air, and she has begun to own her responsibilities more fully than she ever has before. Aside from that unfortunate mishap with the housekeeping job on Craigslist- which could have happened to anyone, and because of which Maxey now owes Wells Fargo around a thousand dollars- she's doing quite admirably.
By some slip of synchronicity, the transient, homeless-sort-of-by-choice Rachel traipsed into town on the same day as I, having returned to Duluth from a few weeks of sleeping on the streets and rooftop futons of Milwaukee. The most I can say about seeing Rachel so much is that it truly was very nice to see her. Rachel's always been full of... interesting ideas in the realm of spirituality, and she's just recently discovered the Indigo and Crystal Children, and is quickly becoming obsessed.
Jason and I broke up while I was there- as much as we could break up, I suppose. Everytime someone hears this particular bit of news, they immediately tell me they're sorry and ask if I'm okay, to which I invariably reply, "Yes, I'm fine. I was out of his league, anyway." And it's true. We remain friends.
It was more than just nice to be able to see Jenny. Jenny Pinther is one of those rare individuals to whom I can relate on a mostly intellectual level. Sometimes I feel like we're two scientist conducting separate experiments who convene from time to time for each to give the other feedback about their respective experiments- namely, our lives. Equally as important is the fact that Jenny is not merely an intelligent being. She is also a feeling, caring, creative soul, and it always feels good to be around her, and I'm glad I got that opportunity.
Of course, I also spent a lot of time with my family. I had many a lovely conversation with my wonderful mother, my racist grandmother, and my drugged-up younger sibling. With Mum the talk was mostly of my life in Orlando, of how things are going, if I'm eating well, if I have enough money, if I'm seeing anyone. Grandma, ever the consummate cerebral Aquarius, speaks of things that go on in her life and what she learns from them. I had dinner with Mum quite a few times, and tasted tofu for the first time in my life. I enjoyed it immensely. we made plans for shipping my keyboard, and for the purchase of my new white netbook, which should be here in a few weeks and which I will name Emma Grace Frost. Also, on one of our outings, we went to get my eyes fixed. I now have contact lenses which give me twenty/fifteen vision and which I apparently have quite a bit of trouble removing. Practice makes sufficient.
Half of the wonder of this trip, though, was coming home. I have always been a soul with two homes, and it seems that every time I leave one to visit the other, it becomes that much easier for everyone involved. When I was moving from Duluth to Orlando, Maxey, Danika, and Orley stayed at my house the night before I was to leave. We had a bit of a late night, and so in the morning, I woke up to drive to the hotel with my mother, because I was taking a shuttle from Duluth to Minneapolis to catch a plane from the airport there, and the shuttle came into the parking lot of the Radisson at around ten o'clock. I let the girls sleep in, saying my goodbyes and i-love-yous to their sleepy faces and half-lucid farewells. Mum and I went to the hotel, where Maxey, Danika, and Orley found us around ten minutes later, Orley brandishing a guitar and all of them wearing looks of indignation. "How dare you try to leave without a proper good-bye?" Their faces demanded imperiously. After a round of nervous hugging, we proceeded to the serious business- the making of music. We sang for an hour, and ended with "Samson," Regina's song, as the shuttle pulled into the parking lot. We got just past Regina cutting his hair herself one night, and a single tear rolled down Orley's cheek. We would all have been fine had Maxey not seen Orley crying. Maxey burst into loud, Leo tears, and Danika's face crumpled. There was more hugging, and then I got into a van that was going to drive me toward my new life.
That doesn't happen anymore. We're all too aware now of the fact that I will be back, eventually.
That does not mean, however, that my heart does not occasionally ache for my other home.